The Veil
by NadiaKrum
Summary: Bellatrix Lestrange makes a realization during the final battle of Hogwarts. She then proceeds to fall through the veil in the Dept. of Myst. But where does it lead? Full summary and details inside.
1. Chapter 1 Dark Lord Decending

**The Veil**

**Summary:** Bellatrix Lestrange makes a realization during the final battle of Hogwarts: Voldemort doesn't love her and never will. All her endeavors were futile. She has a panic attack and falls through the same Veil that took her cousin, naught two years ago, at her hands no less. But what is behind the Veil? The Land of the Dead as many Wizards and Unspeakables suspect? Once you go in you never come out. Or a whole other world? …Middle Earth perhaps?  
**Categories:**romance, horror, adventure, comfort**  
****Characters: **Legolas, Aragorn, OOC Bellatrix, Male/Male/Female, Threesome**  
****Genres:** crossover**  
****Warnings:**darkfic, murder, torture, sexually graphic scenes, **rated M for a reason****  
****Author's note: **I love thecharacter of Bellatrix, and she doesn't seem to have enough crossover fics including her. So, I thought I'd do her some justice. Hopefully I'll succeed. **  
****Chapters:**1 of many

oOo

Cackling laughter sounded from the thin lips of the woman as bodies around her fell. Dead, and at her own doing no less. But she felt no remorse. She was quite proud at what she had done; proud that she had taken the lives. Proud that she had killed for her master.

The walnut wand held loosely in her hand was an extension of her malice. The deep thumping of the dragon heartstring at her wands core could be felt rattling up her arm, mimicking her eagerness to fight, to torture. She would fight for her Lord. And anyone would be a fool to oppose him, or more importantly oppose her, his most _devoted_ servant.

"Avada Kedavra!"

She was a callous murderer. Death Eater was her title, and she wore it just as proudly as the mark on her arm. A wicked witch; borderline mad. No, she _was_ mad. She was willing to sacrifice every pitiful thing she had to be closer to her Lord, the Dark Lord, _her _Voldemort. He was no _Rodolphus_, that disgusting man.

But Bellatrix was no cow.

She was not oblivious to the fact that she was easily disposable to her lord. She knew that the feelings that she harbored for him were not returned. That he was a heartless old fool, and that she was worth no more to him than a lowly muggle.

But she had no choice but to ignore the fact, ignore it, and it would seem that he actually did like her, adore her as a servant—even love her.

Bellatrix shot a well-aimed curse at a set of animated armor heading her way as she ran down the corridor towards the great hall. She could remember running the same path as a student, her only concerns then had been her potions essay, but now was not a time to reminisce.

The Hogwarts of her past was now a battleground of good and evil, and she knew she was on the better of the two sides. Voldemort harbored deadly warriors, assassins, and devoted soldiers; Hogwarts had inexperienced students, house elves, and old codgers. What kind of rebellion was that? Bellatrix laughed out loud, the school would fall just like their weak headmaster did.

The great hall was filled with rubble, dust in the air, and everywhere there were dead; it lit up a spark inside her. Immediately upon entering the hall, she was accosted by three girls, two of which she recognized; the mudblood Granger girl whom she tortured just months previously, the youngest of those blood traitor Weasleys, and a whimsical idiot-looking girl who was clearly out of her league.

They shot curses at her, but just as Voldemort fought three just meters away, she clearly had the upper hand. The mudblood cast curses at her feverishly, her hair whipping around her face, but she merely cast her aside- there _was _a method to her madness after all.

"You going to kill me mudblood?" She spat on the floor between her and the girl, "I wouldn't want you to miss you little Potter friend! Crucio!"

But instead of hitting her intended target, the redheaded girl jumped in front of her receiving the curse instead. Writhing in pain on the floor, the mudblood ran towards her, and Bellatrix took the open chance and attacked the blonde dimwit.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

The girl turned her head away from the site of her injured friend and the consoling mudblood, but was too slow to take any action. The deadly green curse hit her square in the face, and she fell, dead, amongst the splintered wood and wreckage, her near white locks spilling over the ground tangled with her bright radish earrings, open eyes still and quite lifeless. Bellatrix burst into crude laughter, catching the attention of many of those battling around her.

"AGHHH! DON'T TOUCH MY DAUGHTER YOU BITCH!" Somewhere a woman voice screamed.

Bellatrix turned, a wicked smile graced her lips, and she licked them in pure delight. The fat Weasley mother, the lady of whom she destroyed the house of naught but a summer ago, was running as fast as her legs would take her, her wand aimed at Bellatrix. They dueled for sometime, the ground around them cracking and becoming hot, steam rising from somewhere beneath. Bellatrix sent wave after wave of nonverbal spells, only missing her intended target by mere inches, but successfully injuring wizards on both sides of the spectrums around them.

_Fool of a woman, does she really think_—but before she could finish her thoughts the woman raised her pudgy hand, and an unknown curse shot at her.

Bellatrix was stunned at first but at the last second she fell out of the way, landing on her back, clearly underestimating the Weasley woman. She hit the ground hard, and for a moment, her vision was clouded by spots.

She was not surprised that she had not been hit, she was not injured very often, but when she heard a great yell come from where her master was dueling, she froze up.

Voldemort sent a final spell toward those he was fighting, and turned enraged toward the Weasley woman.

Bellatrix laid shocked, too shocked to even move, as she watched her master defend her. Oh! How she longed for him to love her and defend her, to show an inkling of care! And now he does it! She was so filled with joy, too filled that she couldn't move. Her arms locked up near her face, wand clutched so tightly it nearly bent in the force, her eyes bulging out of their sockets...

But just as she started to swell with happiness, the bloody boy who lived popped out of thin air. Lying on the floor in a dazed confusion, she watched as her master and his worst mistake had an argument and then dueled for all they were worth.

Everything slowed down before Bellatrix's eyes, the Dark Lord and Harry Potter were locked in a fierce battle, slivers of sheer power exploding off of their wands and showering around them both. Bellatrix now couldn't move, but not because she was happy, but because she had a queer thought.

She looked at the two men dueling, yes men, for Harry _was_ a man now, and noticed the expression on each of their faces. Harry's eyes were set sternly behind his glasses, and a confidence shined through that she had never witnessed before on anyone. His eyes gleamed with the light their duel was giving off, the spells becoming more of a close call by the second. Voldemort's red eyes held such a cruelty and coldness, not even Bellatrix could match. Bellatrix realized he thought her dead, and he only fought in a remembrance of a great soldier, not because he held her of great value.

The strange thought sifted through her mind a few times, sparking up areas and feelings that she hadn't used too often.

_Voldemort didn't care, so why should she?_

No matter how many she killed, no matter how many exploits she went on, no matter how many plans and journeys and humiliating things she did for him, he would never see her the way she did him. He would never love her, would never hold her, would never kiss and caress her, would never spend endless hours with her. He would not give up his precious _immortality_ for _her. _

She meant nothing to him, nothing. And it had taken her all this time to realize it.

He had her kill innocents under his orders. She killed children, the defenseless. She killed her own_ cousin_ for him, damn it! And for what? Surely not for this?

Bellatrix was stunned, her mind reeling. For once, she didn't know what to do. Should she get up and fight? Fight those who had been her allies not moments ago?

She looked around at the circle of people against the walls of the destroyed Great Hall, all watching the Dark Lord Voldemort and Harry James Potter fight in the center of it all. Witches and Wizards, vampires and werewolves, Deatheaters and children, all fighting because of something Voldemort had done, what he had wanted, what he _wants_!

Bellatrix didn't know what to do. So, as Harry used his signature spell against her Lord, she apparated.

POP.

The last she saw of the Great Hall, was her Lord fallen into a great heap unto the floor.

ooo

Bellatrix, quite confused, found herself in a familiar room.

The Death Chamber, Department of Mysteries.

The place where the prophecy had been smashed due to the clumsiness of her brother in law. The place where she met the son of the man and woman she tortured into insanity. The place where she killed her cousin.

It was all quiet in the room, save for the thumping of her heart in her ears. She looked around at the dank stone, nothing. She cursed under her breath, and was about to dissapparate, wondering at her own stupidity, _maybe she had finally lost her grip?, when she heard it._

Whispers. Voices calling her name. Bells chiming in a strange tongue.

_Annon edhellen, edro hi lle!_

She turned toward the dais behind her. Upon it stood a gate, crumbling and twisted with age. But it was not the gate that caught her attention, it was what was inside the gate. An opaque curtain, shimmering and moving as if just touch by some unknown force lie inside it.

She found herself creeping up towards it.

_Annon edhellen, edro hi lle!_

The voices, the bells. Again she heard them! Beckoning, she knew they were asking for her!

Enchanted, she reached out her hand, her wand still in it, and walked closer toward the curtain. She was close to it now, if only she could hear the bells…

_Annon edhellen, edro hi lle!_

There! There it was again! She stood before it, so close she could feel its power on her cheeks.

And then it lunged out, a vast blanket, and grabbed up her body, covering her completely and taking her in. It took her in her entirety, and she faded away, going up into oblivion.

_Valar valuvar, utúlie'n aurë!_

_Bellatrix Lestrange was no more._

**oOo**

"_Annon edhellen, edro hi lle_!"—Crudlytranslates to "Gate of the elves open now for you!"

"_Valar valuvar, utúlie'n aurë_!"- The will of the Valar will be done, the day has come.

**Reviews are very welcome!**


	2. Chapter 2 You Old Coot

**The Veil**

**Summary: ** Bellatrix Lestrange makes a realization during the final battle of Hogwarts: Voldemort doesn't love her and never will. All her endeavors were futile. She has a panic attack and falls through the same Veil that took her cousin, naught two years ago, at her hands no less. But what is behind the Veil? The Land of the Dead as many Wizards and Unspeakables suspect? Once you go in you never come out. Or a whole other world? …Middle Earth perhaps?  
**Categories:**romance, horror, adventure, comfort**  
****Characters: **Legolas, Aragorn, OOC Bellatrix, Male/Male/Female, Threesome**  
****Genres:** crossover**  
****Warnings:**darkfic, murder, torture, sexually graphic scenes, **rated M for a reason****  
****Author's note: **I love thecharacter of Bellatrix, and she doesn't seem to have enough crossover fics including her. So, I thought I'd do her some justice. Hopefully I'll succeed. **  
****Chapters:**2 of many

oOo

Bellatrix was drifting through the inky blackness of space; the stars becoming silky spider webs as she spun round and round. She felt bile enter the back of her throat, but was too disoriented to let it loose. The feeling was close to what it felt like to apparate, but this time it was not by her own doing. This time it felt forced, like a sheet was wrapped around her skin, making her do things she was unprepared for, pulling her this way and that.

She supposed that this was what _Imperio_ must feel like.

There were voices in the back of her mind now, the same chime-like notes that echoed to her from the veil.

_Athrathach i iant dhínen dû,_

It sounded like some sort of ancient spell.

_A lastathach i lalaith i laiss._

Like something that the olden wizards and witches would recite.

_I thloss en-gwaew glîr ben-lû,_

But how could she know? She never payed any attention in Ancient Runes.

_Nuin giliath telithach nan felais-in-elei 'lyss…_

Then they faded.

It felt like quite sometime before Bellatrix felt a different force on her body. This force was also familiar: gravity.

She felt her limbs get heavy, and the stars beyond became lidded with the darkness of nothing. Where was she going? That stupid curtain had taken her someplace strange… Her arms had started to get feeling back, and she gripped her wand tightly. For the first time she couldn't think of a spell to get out of the situation. And odd white flash lit up the end of her wand, a signal that something was clearly wrong.

BOOM.

She felt the force of air against her back, and suddenly she could breathe, having not noticed she could not do so before. She gulped too hard in panic, and started to choke on her held back bile and the harsh air. Her eyes were drying quickly, and she spit up a bitter liquid. She felt herself falling faster, and her mind raced in formulated escape routes.

_Apparate… Bella, you dolt, APPARATE! _

But her body didn't listen to her mind, and while she closed her eyes tight, she crashed into a dense bed of trees, the leaves and tight branches hitting her repeatedly to the point where she couldn't decide if it hurt or not. And then, right when she knew she would meet the ground, she stopped.

Confused, Bellatrix open her eyes. Ever so slightly at first, and then, at the sight of the still scenery around her, opened them fully. She was lying gently on the ground, in between the protruding roots of a large tree, like she had lie down to rest there herself and not fallen from the sky. She knew where she was.

The Dark Forest.

The Veil had _dumped _her in the_ Dark_ Forest?

She looked around. Naught minutes ago were her fellow Death Eaters crawling all over doing their masters wishes. Killing and maiming all whom got in their way. Not long ago was she there with them, cursing and torturing innocents. Torturing had been her favorite thing, she loved to hear her victims helpless squealing... But where were they now? Had they taken the Castle? But she could have swore she saw—

That's right. She saw it. She saw Voldemort fall. The crumpled black sheet on the floor at Harry Potter's feet had been the broken body of her master. He had no horcruxes left. Nagini killed, diadem destroyed, Potter returning from the dead. He had no way of regeneration now. No way of coming back.

_He's gone. He's really… gone._

All the bile she was fruitfully holding back promptly emptied itself out onto her boots, but she couldn't care any less. In fact, she enjoyed it. She had purchased those boots in lieu of her Lord, to impress him with her looks, and now that she was free of his rule, she was her own person.

_I am free... I am free- I am free!_

Bellatrix lowered her head to the ground spat on it. She blinked a few times, wondering why she did so, but shook the thoughts from her head.

She had no one to answer to now. She didn't have to explain her actions. No one needed to know why she had spat. She had her own will now. She could spit where ever she damned willed to. She fucking did it because she had wanted to—

"Would you like to enlighten an old wizard as to why you find it perfectly acceptable to defile an innocent forest?"

Startled by the deep masculine voice, Bellatrix whipped around and out of reflex, shot a stunning spell at the figure behind her. It hit an invisible force field and was sent bounding into the forest.

"But I'll be the first to admit that this place isn't entirely innocent." The man leaked out in a peal of chuckles.

Bellatrix was shocked. Standing a few feet in front of her was _Dumbledore_.

He was cloaked completely in white, from his hair, to his beard, to the shoes peaking out from under his white cloak.

But how?

Snape had killed him! She had seen it! She had!

Could she not trust her own eyes any longer?

Was Voldemort's fall another joke her eyes had played on her?

The old codger held a white staff, a wand of some sort, and leaned on it like he actually relied on it for support. Bellatrix noticed that he wasn't wearing his glasses. She had never seen him without them… had his nose always been that _large_?

"Dumbledore? But you were killed! You fell off of that tower. Snape killed… _I don't_… HE KILLED YOU!" She screamed at him, her voice becoming louder and shriller as she became more and more uncertain.

"My dear, you know of the demon Balrog?" He gave her a questioning look, his eyes glistening with the low light streaming through the tree tops, a little smile on his lips. "He put up quite the admirable fight, but I smote him and lay his ruin upon the deepest reaches of the earth. But you, maid, should not know of such things. How have you acquired knowledge of my apparent fall?"

"Your apparent-" She didn't know what to say. Her tongue stuck to the dry roof of her mouth, and she unstuck it and used it to dryly lick her thin lips. They were cracked and rough.

_Balrog?_

This was definitely not the Dumbledore she knew of. Just what exactly was going on here?

"Dumbledore, you old coot! Don't tell me that that tumble from the tower doesn't jog your memory?" There, maybe she could remind him.

"My girl, where do you hail from?" He leaned away from his staff and took a few steps forward. Bellatrix assumed it was a sort of comforting gesture, but she wasn't too good at recognizing them, so she mirrored him, taking a few steps forward making sure she was still armed. A crazy witch she was, but she was no idiot. "Somewhere in Rohan I'd assume. Snowbourne, perhaps? The Westfold? Surely Edoras is—"

"Shut up! You know who I am! Dumbledore! Don't play dumb! I can see throu—"

"But my dear, if I knew your identity, wouldn't it be foolish of me to ask?" he smiled and cleared his gruff voice, "Besides, I do not know of this Dumble person you so _fondly_ speak of."

Bellatrix once again remained silent. Something _clearly_ was not right.

"I go by many names. Some call me Mithrandir, to people of your kinship I am the Greyhame. I prefer Gandalf, and I suppose I am Gandalf the White now. How… fitting." He smiled again.

Some Dumbledore character he was.

"May I enquire as to what you are called? If I may be so bold as to ask such a fiery character."

He pointed with his palm toward her, and as if expecting a wand to be in his hand, she made a fake duck. Realizing her foolishness, but still not trusting him, she stood back up straight.

"I can see we are getting no where here in this conversation with you, you cooked old hat. I am Bellatrix Lest—"she cleared her throat, "Bellatrix Black. And I do not come from Rohame; _hideous_ name for a place really."

"But if not Rohan, from where do you hail? With your dark hair I would categorize you as a lady of Gondor, but of course you would have an entourage traveling with you, a _lady_. Tell me, where are your men? Where are your horses?"

"Men?" Her voiced cracked without her permission, "Men! I do not need _men_! My skills far surpass those of any average wizard. I do not need—"

"You have no guard? A woman of your stature?" He reached into the folds of his cloak and pulled out a wooden pipe. "Wizards?" He lit the pipe with just a look and harrumphed, "You mean you have power?"

He blew out a smoke ring into her direction.

Bellatrix was peeved he wasn't taking her in as a dangerous threat.

She bent over slightly, "Yes, I am a witch. A PUREBLOOD witch." She held up her wand. "Are you some sort of idiot? I could torture you right now on the spot if I chose to!"

He threw his head back in laughter.

"Oh, my dear! Maid, if you had half the mind to do any of the sort, you would have done so long ago." He took a long drag of his pipe and nodded.

She started with a deep anger, "Foolish man, you underestimate—"

Gandalf turned from her, and beckoned her with the staff holding arm.

"Ah! Come now Bellatrix, we have much to discuss and such little time to discuss it. Hurry now, the day has become late. I merely stumbled upon you on my way to meet someone." He blew his arid smoke behind him as he walked.

Bellatrix was surprised by the sudden change of events, and started to follow him from a gut feeling she could not identify. He was intriguing to her, something she did not experience often, and she felt invigorated by it.

She trailed behind him, wondering if they were going to the castle. Maybe then she could see how the battle of Hogwarts went. This Dumbledore seemed very adamant about getting something done, but she did not trust him. She would be foolish to. She wondered what she would do when she got to the castle. What would_ they_ do?

Would she be sent back to Azkaban? Would she receive the Dementor's Kiss?

Even though she did not know what happened to her, she wasn't going to let down her guard because of him.

She stuck her wand down her sleeve. It couldn't hurt to be prepared.

"I am afraid my dear, you have found yourself in quite the dilemma. Come, and we will see what to make of you."

She followed him through the bent and gnarled maze of trees.

oOo

"Athrathach i iant dhínen dû, A lastathach i lalaith i laiss. I thloss en-gwaew glîr ben-lû, Nuin giliath telithach nan felais-in-elei 'lyss. " - You will cross the night's silent bridge, And hear the laughter of leaves. The wind's whisper is a timeless song, Beneath the stars are the white shores of dreams.

**Any opinions on what you think would be great! Thanks for reading.**


	3. Chapter 3 Not the Wizarding World?

**The Veil**

**Summary: ** Bellatrix Lestrange makes a realization during the final battle of Hogwarts: Voldemort doesn't love her and never will. All her endeavors were futile. She has a panic attack and falls through the same Veil that took her cousin, naught two years ago, at her hands no less. But what is behind the Veil? The Land of the Dead as many Wizards and Unspeakables suspect? Once you go in you never come out. Or a whole other world? …Middle Earth perhaps?  
**Categories:**romance, horror, adventure, comfort**  
****Characters: **Legolas, Aragorn, OOC Bellatrix, Male/Male/Female, Threesome**  
****Genres:** crossover**  
****Warnings:**darkfic, murder, torture, sexually graphic scenes, **rated M for a reason****  
****Author's note: **I love thecharacter of Bellatrix, and there doesn't seem to be enough crossover fics including her. So, I thought I'd do her some justice. Hopefully I'll succeed. I do not intend to plagiarize either works by Rowling or Tolkien; I am merely using my imagination and applying it to their fantastic worlds. I've just tweaked some things to make the story relevant.**  
****Chapters:**3 of many

oOo

Bellatrix wondered where exactly Dumbledore was leading her.

She was sure that they would have arrived at the castle by now, but it wasn't in sight. She was starting to get suspicious, even more so than she already was. They hadn't even caught a glimpse of the oaf Hagrid's shack! Well, considering she had burned it down… But that was beside the point!

She had followed him for quite sometime, but he hadn't said anything to her. She had insulted him a few times, in manner that was undoubtedly her own, but he didn't seem to hear her.

She wondered why he was being so nice, but this was Dumbledore she was thinking of. Even when she threatened to kill him, he was nothing but nice to her, always telling her the truth and things she didn't want to _hear_.

"Dumbledore, you muggle-loving twat, tell me where we're going before I have to resort to other means!"

He snorted and looked over his shoulder at her briefly while still marching forward, "Gandalf, m' dear. It's Gandalf." He made a snort and put away his pipe. "We are going to surprise some friends. They are weary with travel, and it would be very beneficial to them if we gave them some hope."

"_Hope._" She spat out the word like it was disgusting to taste on her tongue. "Hope is a fool's thing. There is never any hope."

Her forehead was sweating from exertion, and she raised her hand to wipe away her thick hair from sticking to it.

"There is always hope, Bellatrix. There are those who choose to acknowledge its existence, and those who choose to ignore it." He made no notion of scolding her, "Besides, you seem quite biased."

She could just imagine that he had that odd twinkle in his eyes. It always made her feel uneasy.

ooo

He was singing to himself as he meandered between the unusually tall trees.

_An old poem_, Bellatrix guessed, _I was never much for poetry._

She was never much for anything really. Maybe at one time she was, but her mind set had changed so much since being a Death Eater.

She was highly aware of her surroundings, but everything was eerily still. The air was stuffy, and had a moldy smell. The last time she was in the Dark Forest the air had been clean, damp, and cold. Here, everything was dry. The bark on all of the trees was chipping off, and the leaves were dried out and crinkled brown. It was quiet, save for the old wizard's humming and the crunching of foliage.

He was being quite odd in his relative reactions.

Wasn't his school being taken over? Why wasn't he panicked? Did he know something she didn't? She didn't like being uninformed.

And then suddenly, he stopped.

Startled, Bellatrix pulled out her wand and aimed at his back. She had her favorite curse waiting should he make a false move.

He started to glow, his skin and cloak shining iridescently. She covered eyes with one arm, and aimed her wand and fired.

"Crucio!"

But the spell back fired once again. It bounced off of him, and flew back directly at her.

"Protego!" Her hair flew in front of her face in a crazed tangle of curly dark ropes. Her eyes opened wide, and her legs opened up in a more balancing position.

The curse reflected off of her shield and disappeared.

Bellatrix was blinded. The light radiating off of him was so bright she immediately knew that something was definitely odd about this Dumbled—Gandalf character.

She heard a manly shout, another grunt, and a twang, and knew that they were not alone, but she couldn't see past the glowing wizard.

"Ah! Well met my friends!" Gandalf lifted both his arms in greeting; his ivory staff hovered in the air.

"Mithrandir! Is that truly you? Mithrandir!" She could not see, but knew it was a man's voice, and from what she could tell there were others.

"Yes, it is I! Your humble wizard! I return to you now in your time of need!"

"But—But… you are garbed entirely in white!" The deepest of all the voices sounded.

"Yes, I mistook you for Saruman! Forgive me, Gandalf." She heard the ruffling of leaves, and presumed someone was now on the floor. If only she could see past the old bag…

"Ah," he harrumphed and cleared his throat, "Yes indeed, I am Saruman. Although one might say I am Saruman as he should have been." He put down his arms, and Bellatrix could see a sword on the ground near him.

"But you fell! We saw you!" The deep voice raised in questioning. "Aragorn, as I said, these woods are enchanted, darkened with magic! But this! This is truly a miracle!"

"Yes, Gimli, it does seem as though the tides have turned, and I come back to you now to instill some hope. You follow the trail of two Hobbits. But they passed here near a day ago and were just as surprised as you to meet me."

The Gimli character laughed, "YES!"

"Yes, my dear dwarf. It seems as though your luck has changed. I have new knowledge of the dangers of Rohan, it seems as though the King's judgment is clouded." He turned towards Bellatrix, and suddenly she became nervous. "Come, we must hurry and awaken him before he makes a decision that would go too far to undo."

There were three men behind him, all different but all closely knit together.

The first was short and stocky, with a thick red beard and beady brown eyes under prominent eyebrows. He wore a suit of chainmail, and had various axes strapped to his person. His boots were metal shielded, and his hands large and sausage-like. The second she almost mistook for Lucius, her brother-in-law, but upon closer inspection she saw he was much more graceful-looking, with a green tunic and matching leggings. To his waist he had twin-daggers, and on his back a quiver of arrows. His face was serene, pale with equally pale hair, and dark blue, almost blackish eyes. He reminded her of a Veela. _Perhaps he was one?_ His beauty was enchanting, and she couldn't help but feel interested by him. Another was there, a roguish man with scraggily brown hair and an unshaven stubbly beard. He was dirty, probably even more so than herself, and had a long sword in hand and a small bow on his own back. His eyes were grey, and he looked so much like an unkempt Sirius that she almost choked.

But it couldn't be him.

She had killed him, hadn't she?

Well, she did think that Dumbledore was dead…

"Sirius?"

ooo

Aragorn was relieved.

Gandalf, the leader of their fellowship had returned! And in good time too, he was running out of ideas for them to do. He had hoped to find Merry and Pippin in Fanghorn, but hearing of their safety put him to ease.

But then he discovered a new surprise.

Behind Gandalf was a woman. Granted, she was disheveled and she looked quite shocked herself, but she was a woman none-the-less.

She was dressed entirely in black, and an odd putrid substance was caked on her boots. Her hair was dark and shining and pinned to her head, but bunches of it escaped the grasp of the pins to shade her face. Said face was rounded, with unnaturally large eyes that were heavy-lidded and as dark as the night itself and contrasted with the paleness of her skin. Her lips were thin, but pink, and tightly set. She was as thin as a skeleton, and it made her look sickly and deranged.

Aragorn was on guard (as if he wasn't always).

"Sirius?" The woman was looking at him now, and he was startled by the look in her eyes.

"My lady?" He stepped toward her, and she stepped back, "Do you know me?"

But instead of an answer, she raised her hand holding and odd brown stick and…

"_Impedimenta!_" she yelled.

As he took another step forward, an invisible force pushed him from behind and he flew to the ground startled. Alarmed, Legolas rushed to his aid, picking him up by his arms. As he got his footing, Gimli snorted.

"Gandalf! What witchcraft is this? She knocked him to the ground with a mere wave of a stick!" he unhinged an axe from his belt, "Is this some sort of enchantress? Well I have you know that this dwarf does not settle for the unnatural!"

Aragorn, helped by Legolas, got to his feet.

"Peace, Gimli!" he stood between the woman and the dwarf, "Peace! Surely there is an explanation for her… actions." He held his arms out in a manner of keeping both of them at bay. "Gandalf, whom is this lady you've brought?"

Gandalf put on a surprised expression and looked at him.

"Oh! Her? Her name is Bella—"

"Who I am is none of your business, you filthy boy!" she spat at him, raising her stick thing again. Her face was livid, and she glared at him.

"—trix. Put that thing down!" He turned toward her and whapped her in the back of the head with his staff, "You can't just go gallivanting around, waving it about you like a crazed lunatic!"

ooo

Bellatrix grabbed the back of her head.

The staff was harder than she expected.

_Damn, that old coot!_

"Behave yourself!" Dumbledore scolded her. "This is not your world, so don't pretend that you know everyone and everything!" He made to hit her again, but she dodged it.

"Don't tell me what to do!" She looked at him menacingly, "We're in the Dark Forest, Voldemort and the remaining Death Eaters have taken the castle! Your precious _Potter_ has killed _him_!" She pulled on the sleeve of her left arm, pushing it up and revealing her Dark Mark. "Look!"

On her arm, the familiar tattoo that she had pied over for hours and hours was fading.

"Look! His influence is leaving! We must get to the castle!"

Gandalf grabbed her arm, and immediately the mark disappeared.

"You are being foolish Bellatrix _Black._" He tightened his grip, "Do not be deceived by what you see. I am Gandalf the White, an Istari of Middle Earth. You are not in the Wizarding World anymore, maid, and you would do well to adapt."

Bellatrix was taken aback. But now she noticed something strange about Dumbledore…

His nose was larger, and his hair was snow-white. He didn't hold the Elder wand in his hands, but a pure white staff. His beard was shorter and less well-kept.

"Dumbledore? You're not Dumble—" She swallowed her tongue, "Your name is Gandalf?"

She tested the name.

"Gandalf? What is happening? Who is this lady?" The Veela asked.

"Legolas, my dear friend, this is Bellatrix. Bellatrix Black. I have been informed that she was sent here—"

"Here? Here is in the Dark Forest! We're right by the castle!" she yelled at him. "And you've been _informed_? You're supposed to be dead! Buried in a tomb!"

"Listen to me you impotent _girl_!" He raised his voice, becoming a boom of a man, "The Valar have sent you here. You are in Fangorn Forest of Middle Earth." He pointed toward the three men. "This is _Aragorn_, son of Arathorn; Gimli, the dwarf, son of Gloin; and Legolas of Mirkwood Elf, Prince and son of King Thranduil." He then proceeded to point at himself, "And as I have said before, I am Gandalf. _Not_ whomever you think."

Bellatrix looked at 'Gandalf', then at Gimli, and Legolas, and then Aragorn.

Maybe he was right.

She blinked a few times, and then stuffed her wand back into her sleeve.

"Lead the way." She said.

oOo

**Thanks to ModestSandy for reviewing, and thank you to all those who favorited and are watching the progress of this story. I really appreciate it. Now, why don't you do me a favor and review too! :)**


	4. Chapter 4 Living the High Life

**The Veil**

**Summary: ** Bellatrix Lestrange makes a realization during the final battle of Hogwarts: Voldemort doesn't love her and never will. All her endeavors were futile. She has a panic attack and falls through the same Veil that took her cousin, naught two years ago, at her hands no less. But what is behind the Veil? The Land of the Dead as many Wizards and Unspeakables suspect? Once you go in you never come out. Or a whole other world? …Middle Earth perhaps?  
**Categories:**romance, horror, adventure, comfort, humor**  
****Characters: ****OOC** **Bellatrix**,Legolas, Aragorn, Male/Male/Female, Threesome**  
****Genres:** crossover**  
****Warnings:**dark themes, murder, torture, sexually graphic scenes, **rated M for a reason****  
****Author's note: **I love the character of Bellatrix, and there doesn't seem to be enough crossover fics including her. So, I thought I'd do her some justice. Hopefully I'll succeed.

I do not intend to plagiarize either works by Rowling or Tolkien; I am merely using my imagination and applying it to their fantastic worlds. I've just tweaked some things to make the story relevant.**  
**

**Chapters:**4 of many

oOo

It only had to be a few hours before Bellatrix started to suspect that the forest didn't have any sort of exit.

This 'Fangorn Forest' as they told her; the white wizard, the dwarf, the Veela 'Elf', and the filthy, sweaty man.

But she would believe them for now, at least until it didn't benefit her anymore. She was a Death Eater after all. If not by oath, then by state of mind.

But that was not entirely true.

She did not protect and fight for her master in the end. At the last second she had changed her mind and betrayed—

"Hurry Bellatrix!" She suddenly noticed she was falling behind, "We have not time to dawdle."

She made a grunt in the back of her throat; cursing Gandalf for all that he was worth. At this rate, she would never have time to think to herself. She was at the back of the company, followed only by the tall, gangly, blonde thing. He was watching her wearily, but walking light-footed over the forest floor. She looked back at him every now and again, but was not unnerved by him as she was by the dark-haired man trailing closely after Gandalf.

He was walking ahead of her, making noises entirely counter-balancing the perfection of the elf, but not as badly as the dwarf. He would look back casually at her, as if checking to see whether she could keep up, noting her stamina, which she knew surprised him.

_You'd be surprised by the things I've done, Aragorn. I've tortured men just like you, some I've even killed. You think you are some great warrior? Insolent Muggle. You have not yet met the true meaning of warrior._

It did not take long before Bellatrix was wishing for some excitement, as the walk between the party were silent for the most part, and she wished for some sort of action.

But despite her dark thoughts and her boredom, she noticed something that amused her greatly a few hours into there hike. It seemed that the man was talking under his breath, and that the Veela was listening to him, and responding! If she was anyone else, she probably would have not noticed.

She was sure they were communicating about her, and to test this theory she started experimenting (something very uncharacteristic of her, she would add. But things were changing around her whether she liked it or not, so why not?).

She would reach out and touch a leaf, or something of the sort that didn't include the mindless task of walking, just to do something suspicious. The Veela would stiffen behind her, and purposely step down with weight on the ground, for he didn't make any sound normally when walking, causing the leaves to crunch. The man would hear, and turn slightly, surveying her, then if he found her actions harmless, would turn back around.

She didn't think they thought she was doing it on purpose, but Bellatrix was a master surveyor, and noticed _everything. _

_Far more than Aragorn and the Twit would ever know._

ooo

Light started to filter from somewhere ahead of Gandalf, and it surprised Bellatrix.

They had been walking in near darkness for so long, she forgot what light was like, and as her eyes dilated, she could see her companions more clearly. She blinked rapidly to adjust to the light, and had to suppress the urge to reach for her wand.

Gandalf was at the lead of her group, and now that there was light, she saw just how truly bright his robes were just before he covered them with a drab grey cloak. They glittered iridescently, and it seemed as if multiple colors of thread were weaved into the fabric itself, so that it shimmered with the luster of a rainbow.

Her eyes ran directly into the back of the dwarf, Gimli.

_Gimli! His appearance matches his freak name._

In the light, she could see how intricate his armor was; the designs were complicated, and it had many tedious links of chainmail. His mahogany hair was protruding from under his helmet and he wore a cloak of green with a green-leaf brooch that was so delicate-looking, it contrasted heavily with the rest of his get up.

His armor reminded her of her Death Eaters mask, and she scrunched her nose up.

In excitement of finally being out of the dreary forest, Bellatrix started skipping towards the light, but she caught her boot under a root, and instead of tripping, made it seems as if she were brushing some dirt off her knees… ungracefully.

She then returned to her stiff form, and spat on the root.

"Fucking Mandrake."

Then cackled loudly, startling those in her company.

Brushing aside her previous playful attitude, she grew stiff as she remembered that the others were watching, and returned to her place in line from where she had strayed.

They broke into the light of the prairie, and Bellatrix could see from behind the dwarf that the borders of the forest stopped abruptly and lead on into a vast country with… no castle in sight.

_How… odd._

But she didn't voice her questions (lest she bring more harm to the back of her pounding head).

"Finally! We've made it out of that stinking rott—I'm mean charming, quite charming forest!" The dwarf exclaimed with the deep rumbling of his voice. Bellatrix caught herself agreeing with his comment, thinking the same.

She turned to Gandalf, as she convinced herself to start calling him, and raised a thin eyebrow.

"Well?"

Gandalf smiled, as he always seems to do and renounced, "One stage of this journey is over." He panned his vision among the other four, catching eyes with them each, "War has come to Rohan. We must ride to Edoras, and to King Théoden and his people, with all speed."

Bellatrix looked at him disbelievingly.

"Ride?" She looked disgustingly at him, "_I _don't ride."

Gandalf, being the wise old wizard he was, merely ignored her comment and turned from her. He started to whistle, and from the great plained distance, a glorious white creature came. Almost gliding to the spot where there where standing, it gave a great whinny, flipping its hair so it shined with an essence of the suns rays itself.

She had to admit, she _was_ impressed, and when Gandalf pet the forehead of the great creature the Veela asked her silent question.

"This is one of the Mearas, unless my eyes are cheated by some spell." He reached out for the creature, but recoiled his hands in sudden thought, and instead caressing its body with his eyes.

"This is my friends, is Shadowfax, the Lord of all horses." He laughed to himself, "The finest of all of Théoden's breed, and my friend through many dangers."

"Oh…"

Bellatrix didn't want to admit—well she didn't want to admit to anything really—she thought it was impressive. But still, it was only one horse. Did the old fag expect all five of them to ride on the back of it? As impressive as the beast was, it was _that _impressive.

"Well, then I guess it's high time for me to be off," she coughed a bit, and started to make her way back into the forest. She felt a sudden tug, and looked back to see the back of her cloak-like dress being held down to the ground by his staff.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah! Just where do you think you are off to?"

The old coot was behind her, and looking at her with those eyes that made her unnerved.

"Where do you think, you bloody idiot! I'm leaving! I'm going back into the forest and finding that dammed portkey, or what-have-your-bleeding-ears, and getting the fuck back to where I came from!"

He merely laughed, reached out his giant hand, grabbed the back of her neck, and handed her off to the gruffy man.

_Aragorn, I think it was._

He held her by her arms, softly, but with authority, as if he remembered that her character was in question but had to remind himself that she was a _woman_. His hands were warm, and slightly damp with sweat, but calloused on the puffsof the palms.

"I would advise you, My Lady," He whispered in her ear from behind, "to hold your tongue and come with us willingly. It is the will of the wizard, and so you shall do it."

She slammed her elbow into his chest. He gave a grunt, but then tightened his hold on her.

"I don't think I'll be able to comply."

From the distance, again something approached. This time two horses came galloping.

Bellatrix spat.

"I feel quite excited for the chap who shares my horse."

Aragorn tugged her over to the horse closest to him, and urged her to get ontop.

"Do not fret, milady, I feel absolutely delighted."

**oOo**

Sorry it's taken so long, I've just felt like this chapter was inadequate, but now its time to get back on the boat. Thanks!


	5. Chapter 5 Riding, Riding, Riding, Rohan!

**The Veil**

**Summary: ** Bellatrix Lestrange makes a realization during the final battle of Hogwarts: Voldemort doesn't love her and never will. All her endeavors were futile. She has a panic attack and falls through the same Veil that took her cousin, naught two years ago, at her hands no less. But what is behind the Veil? The Land of the Dead as many Wizards and Unspeakables suspect? Once you go in you never come out. Or a whole other world? …Middle Earth perhaps?  
**Categories:**romance, horror, adventure, comfort, humor**  
****Characters: ****OOC** **Bellatrix**,Legolas, Aragorn, Male/Male/Female, Threesome**  
****Genres:** crossover**  
****Warnings:**dark themes, murder, torture, sexually graphic scenes, **rated M for a reason****  
****Author's note: **I love the character of Bellatrix, and there doesn't seem to be enough crossover fics including her. So, I thought I'd do her some justice. Hopefully I'll succeed.

I do not intend to plagiarize either works by Rowling or Tolkien; I am merely using my imagination and applying it to their fantastic worlds. I've just tweaked some things to make the story relevant.**  
**

**Chapters:**5 of many

oOo

So there she sat. In front of that dammed man on the horse.

She wasn't bound, but she might as well have been. Aragorn's arm that wasn't holding onto the reigns of the horse was wrapped tightly around her diaphragm, slightly making her choke every time the horse jumped over a miscellaneous bolder or the like.

She had never ridden a horse before- as respectable wizards were limited to brooms and magical creatures—and she found that she did not like it much.

She could just imagine her mother now, looking down at her in disgust at how she could even let herself near such a beast. '_Oh, how great Narcissa is, she would never lower herself to such _muggle _things. How despicable Bella, you are an insult for a daughter-a muggle lover. Just like your dear sister, Andromeda.'_

She never cared much for her mother, but oh, how words do sting the young.

Her bottom was sore from all the bouncing around, even while Aragorn held her tightly between his legs, and if she didn't keep her jaw shut, the bottom would slam its teeth against the top and nip her tongue in the process. She yelped the first two times, but when asked what the matter was by her human-rope, she promptly rushed the back of her head at his jaw.

Needless to say, she wouldn't be attempting that anymore.

She rubbed her thigh where he pinched her; seems that he knew all the _right_ spots to weaken a person.

They were side-by-side to the Veela and the gnome, but a tad behind the wizard, and as she looked over at the other two, she could see that Gimli was not nearly having as much fun as she was, probably even _more_ so.

They were riding fast, perhaps faster than the speeds of the brooms she remembered from her childhood. Her hair, already wild and untamed, flew around her face and blocked her vision. It annoyed her greatly, to the point where she tired from moving it out of the way and considered cutting it all off. Aragorn was getting the most of its fury though, and he attempted to brush it aside a few times. His efforts were useless, and her hair remained whipping freely in the wind, and consequently, at his face.

**ooo**

They rode on for a bit longer, but when the sun began to lower behind the mountains in the distance, Gandalf signaled them to slow and come to a halt behind a rather tall alcove of rocks and bushes.

Her horse came to a slow walk beside where Gandalf has dismounted and had started to pull a pack from somewhere she had not noticed before. Gimli and the blonde thing came naught but a second later, and started to unpack and prepare a fire. Aragorn kept hold onto her arm as he stopped the horse and got off, then attempted to pull her off and hand her over to the Veela.

"Legolas, my friend, take her for a moment."

Aragorn gave a grunt and pushed her toward him when she didn't budge, and his hand replaced the mans as he went off to help Gimli with setting up camp.

"Yes, darling please do." She leaned back into the tall beautiful man, "Take me." She cackled a little and made to snap her jaws at him in a playful biting imitation, causing him to hold her at arms length using both limbs.

"My Lady!" He gasped at her boldness, "Please do not talk in such a manner! It is unfit for a lady to speak so."

She smirked and giggled oddly, "Yes, how _unfit_." She pressed the back of her body against his front. She felt as if his Veela qualities were inducing her giddiness, and tried to reach up and touch some of his hair before being pushed away again.

Before them, Aragorn addressed Gandalf.

"Gandalf, we have but three blankets, where shall the maid sleep?"

The grey-garbed man, who at that moment was packing some tobacco into a pipe, merely brushed them off with a wave of his hand.

"I'm sure the four of you can stick your heads together and muster up a solution." He then sat down on the mat he laid for himself and began to smoke away at his pipe, eyes closed and slowly breathing.

"Good for nothing old bat." Bellatrix muttered under her breath. The Veela gasped again, and made some comment she wasn't listening to. "I can manage myself without your concern, muggle."

She went for her wand tucked in her sleeve but was stopped by Aragorn pulling his sword out from its sheath.

"You will do no such thing-!" He took a few steps forward, expecting her to pull a weapon from within the cloth, but was stopped by the wizards deep voice.

"Aragorn! Do not fret my friend, leave her be. She cannot do anything dangerous in my presence." Aragorn lowered his sword slowly, watching as she pulled her wand out. "My Bella, do what you must."

"_My Bella._" She mocked him with a whiny voice, "Shut your mouth, oaf."

"Well come on lass." The dwarf said from a few feet away warily, "Lets see it."

She pulled away from her captor, and lifted her wand in the air.

It had been quite sometime since she performed practical magic, even when she was back at her own home, and she wasn't entirely sure that it would work properly, but she attempted anyway.

She waved her walnut wand, and from a puff of smoke fell a blanket and pillow.

"AH! Look there laddie! She did it!" The dwarf brought his two large hands together and clapped loudly.

"Gimli! Hush! There might be unfriendly ears near that would be delighted to hear your rowdiness!" Aragorn hissed, eliciting a scoff from the dwarf.

Gimli humphed, the happiness leaving his face quickly and trudged over to his mat, plopping down on it like a scorned child. Bellatrix frowned; being delighted that _someone_ had appreciated what she had done, and raised her wand to the sky.

"_Protego Totalum!_"

She cast, and the opaque liquid-like spell spurted from the tip of her wand, shooting up into the air above and spilling down around them in a round shield.

The three of them looked up at what they thought totally enchanting, mesmerized and nearly missing her cast a second spell.

"_Muffliato!_"

She felt the familiar sensation of ear muffs being put on and then dissipating as the spell became active. She turned toward the three of them, picking up her blanket and pillow, and holding it to her chest.

"There! Now you lot can yell all you want and we won't be found." She looked at Gimli who was grinning at her broadly, then to Aragorn and Leg-what, "Satisfied?"

She came to where Gimli had laid down his belongings, and spread out her blanket and laid herself down, lying on her side facing the imp and her back to the others.

'_At least someone appreciates what I do.'_

Her mind flashed to a certain Lord, before she shook herself of her thoughts.

'_He's dead now Bella. Dead. Killed in front of your own eyes.'_

She closed said eyes, and made sure her wand was near her as she let down her guard. She heard the two males discuss who would be taking first watch, and slipped into the first stages of sleep.

"Aragorn?" She heard the Elf whisper to the man, "How do we know if we can trust her?"

Bellatrix sighed and curled her legs toward her chest more.

"Don't."

She whispered back.

**ooo**

'_Bella…_

_My love._

_Bella._

_Come here, come to your master.'_

_Arms of an unnatural color envelop her and suck her toward a wispy blackness._

'_Bella? _

_Come, come to me.'_

_Kisses on the side of her neck, caresses on her sides, hands through her hair…_

_Tongue on her skin, passion on her lips…_

'_Bella?_

_Have you come?_

_Have you come…?_

_TO DIE!'_

_Falling, falling, falling._

**ooo**

The fire being stomped out woke her, and she sat up in a dizzy spell.

The dawn was fast approaching, the first of the suns rays peaking over the plains and filtering about the clouds. The company was moving about, Aragorn handing out portions of salted and dried meat for breakfast, Gimli putting out the fire and bundling the blankets, Veela-boy rounding the horses and talking to them, and Gandalf standing to the side and doing… whatever it is that he does.

Aragorn approached and handed her a sliver of meat that she took and gnawed on.

She picked her wand up and after 'Scourgify-ing' the vomit off her boots and ridding of the protective charms, got rid of the blanket and pillow.

She stood and stretched, watching as Aragorn went over to help with the horses as Lego-go-go came back to camp. She attempted to remove the hair that fell into her eyes away from her face as she was watching him, but after a few failed attempts, gave up frustrated and annoyed.

"Here, my lady," From behind her the elf spoke. She turned and acknowledged him. "From which I hail, my people have a method of arranging hair so that it does not become troublesome." He lifted his hands to point to his braids, "It seems as though you are having troubles with your hair becoming too... unruly. If you would like, I could," he gestured to her hair, "Help you."

She looked at his hair, perfectly in place, braids tightened and holding the rest of it back from falling into his face, small braids just above his delicate pointed ears.

Pointed ears?

"Bloody hell!" She belted, caught off guard.

"Milady! Such harsh words!"

"Where did those ghoulish things come from?" She reached out and pointed to his ears.

"My-my ears?" He stammered, alarmed, but calming when she realized she may have not ever seen them before. "My Lady, my ears are pointed as all elves have."

"Elf?" She questioned. He didn't look like any house-elf she had ever seen. "Did your filthy parents mate outside of species? How disgust—"

"My parents are not filthy!" He raised his voice, becoming stern. "They are royalty. My father is King Thranduil of Mirkwood! Far from filth and mixed blood!"

Gandalf spoke from where he was standing a few meters away.

"She knows not of what you speak. Elves in her homeland are small imp-like creatures, whom are made to do house work and serve there masters dutifully without pay."

"I don't need you butting in on my conversations, Grandpa!" She snapped back at him.

"Slaves? Elves are slaves to you?" Bellatrix could just feel the sap leaking off of him, "How beastly, how- how barbaric!" He cried.

She raised her hands in defense.

"They enjoy it! They enjoy it okay!" She yelled. "Calm yourself idiot!"

He stopped yelling but continued, "Enslavement." He spoke with disdain, "No elf could live like that, they would sooner perish than serve another not of their own will."

Bellatrix looked at his face, pathetically on the verge of tears, dark brows set low over his eyes.

"Pull yourself together." She spat. "You look pathetic."

He looked at her again, his eyes locked onto hers, and she couldn't help but feel like apologizing. But she caught herself before she uttered a word, and pointed to her hair.

"Now, if your _done_," she grumbled, "Get on with the hair."

He nodded, and reached for her shoulders to turn her about.

His hands were cool beside her neck, and she felt them comb through her hair, magically pulling through the many knots with ease. She could clearly remember many nights as a child with her mother complaining about her hair—how thick it was, how much there was, and how it was odd that _she_, out of all her closest family, was the only one to have inherited _curly_ hair. The Blacks only had straight; poor little Bella was truly an oddball.

He finished quite quickly, and she reached back to feel one single braid starting at her crown and continuing down to the small of her back.

"That should hold for the rest of the day's journey to Edoras." He smiled at her, "It suits you."

From behind her, she could hear Aragorn call them over to get on the horses.

"Don't get too eager, Elf-boy." She told him, going over to Aragorn and being lifted onto the horse.

They began to ride until it was well into the day before they came up over a hill and Gandalf called back to them as only he would.

"Look yonder my friends!"

In the distance, Bellatrix could see a large village on top of a small mountain.

"Edoras and the Golden Hall of Meduseld. There dwells Théoden, King of Rohan, whose mind is overthrown. Saruman's hold over King Théoden is now very strong." He urged Shadowfax forward, "Come!"

**oOo**

**A/N: That's the end of Chapter five. I didn't want to make Legolas seem to crybaby-ish, but trying to get certain points across. And Aragorn seems like kind of an a-hole, but doesn't he always seem like that at first? Ah, Well. Thanks to all those who reviewed (Estry, Minoki, and especially RebeccaSeverusSnape)! I really love reviews *hinthint*. **


	6. Chapter 6 A Wormy Circumstance

**The Veil**

**Summary: ** Bellatrix Lestrange makes a realization during the final battle of Hogwarts: Voldemort doesn't love her and never will. All her endeavors were futile. She has a panic attack and falls through the same Veil that took her cousin, naught two years ago, at her hands no less. But what is behind the Veil? The Land of the Dead as many Wizards and Unspeakables suspect? Once you go in you never come out. Or a whole other world? …Middle Earth perhaps?  
**Categories:**romance, horror, adventure, comfort, humor**  
****Characters: ****OOC** **Bellatrix**,Legolas, Aragorn, Male/Male/Female, Threesome**  
****Genres:** crossover**  
****Warnings:**dark themes, murder, torture, sexually graphic scenes, **rated M for a reason****  
****Author's note: **I love the character of Bellatrix, and there doesn't seem to be enough crossover fics including her. So, I thought I'd do her some justice. Hopefully I'll succeed.

I do not intend to plagiarize either works by Rowling or Tolkien; I am merely using my imagination and applying it to their fantastic worlds. I've just tweaked some things to make the story relevant.**  
**

**Chapters:**5 of many

oOo

Edoras seemed quite dinky to Bellatrix. There was a wall made of old wood that ran the perimeter of a small hill-like mountain on which the city of Edoras was built upon. The gate was closed as they approached, and the wizard had to call up to a guard who asked of their titles.

"It is I, Gandalf the Grey, with my companions; Legolas Thranduilion of the Elven realm, Gimli, son of Gloin, Aragorn of the Dunedain, and Bellatrix, my… under study!" He shouted up at the man.

Bellatrix frowned at what Gandalf had called her. She was about to retort, make some comment about how his intelligence must be lacking, when she was cut off by Aragorn.

"I know what your thinking, but I would be silent if I were you." He followed up with a squeeze on her stomach, where his arm was holding her close to him on top of the horse.

She hissed at him, but kept her comment to herself. She turned her head up at the guard, who wore a suit of chainmail, some armor, and a helmet, and saw the confused look on his face as he registered their names.

"And what is your business here?"

Gandalf answered him again, "We have urgent matters to discuss with the King!"

The man looked down again, and turned back toward the city.

"Open the gate!"

From behind the wall the gate was pulled, a great creaking noise came from the strain the ropes had on the aged wood. The company's horses walked forward, and Bellatrix found her self becoming excited.

'_Finally, a place where I can see people other than these kooks.'_

She thought, feeling Aragorn tense up behind her, anticipating the unknown. His excitement fueled hers more, her eyes widening, tongue darting out to wet her dry lips, and her back slightly arching against his crotch. She felt her wand in her sleeve pulsating, the tip becoming heated and warming her forearm.

With the gate fully opened, they urged there horses forward. Slowly, they passed through the gate, and all bits of excitement from Bellatrix faded.

She looked around with her wide, dark eyes, but everything she saw only met her with disappointment.

"You'll find more cheer in a graveyard." She heard Gimli say somewhere behind her and couldn't help but agree.

There were people standing precariously along the street, all dressed in dark hues, and looking up at the newcomers with complete sadness in their eyes. The children stood by their parents neither giggling nor playing about, and the elderly stood crooked among the young, some nearly crying and retreating back to their straw-thatched houses.

'_It's no use. These fools look as if there in on this joke- impossible for me to find any decent wizard here.'_

Bellatrix met the eyes of an old woman as she scanned the people, but haunted by the look of despair within them, lifted her head and saw a long-haired figure on the steps of a castle. It was a white character with hair of gold, and as she watched as they approached the path leading to the main entrance, the figure retreated, disappearing among the flags and stark wooden columns of the building.

They came to a series of stone steps, and as they dismounted, stable boys came to take their horses to... well, the stables. Gandalf began to climb the steps, and before she could generate a thought, she felt a coldness of metal on the back of her knees, coaxing her forward.

She looked back at the stocky dwarf as they climbed up, "If I didn't find you so entertaining, you'd find that axe halfway up your arse before you could even call for a—"

"—Bellatrix!" she was cut off by that darned Gandalf, "It would be best if you kept your mouth shut before you find your wand up your—Ah!"

They were met by guards at the top of the steps, five or so, and the one who looked to be the leader of them stepped forward.

"I cannot allow you to enter the Meduseld so armed, Gandalf Greyhame, by order of Grima Wormtongue." He told them with a slight exasperation in his voice, as if he was annoyed.

Bellatrix could have sworn she heard him say 'Wormtail', and she made the pre-decision that she already didn't like this person. Frankly, anyone with the word 'worm' in their name probably were disgusting creatures.

Gandalf nodded at the man and gestured for the other three to follow suit. The non-house elf-Elf handed over two knives after twirling them for show in front of her. She scoffed a little, and made to follow Gandalf as he stepped past the guard to enter through the doors. The same guard from before stopped him with a hand.

"Your staff." He gestured at him.

Gandalf made a grumble, and leaned against the white stick, "Oh! You would not part an old man from his walking stick, would you?"

"_Would you?_" Bellatrix mimicked from behind him, shooting a wicked smirk at the man, leaning forward so as to bend her back in a creepy way, placing the nail of a finger in her mouth.

"Being a _lady_ does not excuse you from search, miss." The guard retorted, "Be so kind as to remove your weapons also."

Beside her Gandalf leaned against Legolas' outstretched arm, playing upon the act of 'frail old man'. She snorted as she caught the wink Gandalf gave her and the others.

"Oh shut it, _muggle_. I have no weapons of your concern. Lets us through before I—" She caught herself when she saw the old mans staff fall toward her head at an alarmingly fast rate and covered her head as a reflex with her hands while slightly attempting to duck out of the way. "—I…! I mean—Nothing! I have nothing!"

The man looked at them strangely, eyes darting back and forth between them. "Well then, I suppose." He hesitated, but motioned for them to follow as some other guards open the large doors and he walked through.

**ooo**

Inside, the hall was dark, the only light being filtered in from heavy curtained windows. There were paintings and tapestries everywhere she looked, depicting great battles and one-too-many horses for her liking.

At the end of the hall was a dusty-looking figure, hunched over and not far from death. At his side was a man, slicked with grease and covered in animal skins that were crudely sewn together. He whispered to the older man in the golden throne, and Bellatrix immediately knew that he was Wormtongue.

"Nasty git." She whispered under her breath.

"The courtesy of your hall has somewhat lessened of late, Théoden King." Gandalf announced, s he approached the two men.

Men started to trail the company, and the doors they entered through closed behind them. Wormtongue whispered again to the king, and by some surprise, the almost-dead man conjured enough strength to speak.

"Why should I welcome you, Gandalf Stormcrow?" His speech was drawn out and scratchy.

"A just question, my liege." Wormtongue stepped from his lord and advanced toward them, the guards following suit. "Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear. _Lathspell_ spell I name him. Ill news is an ill guest." He spat.

"Be silent!" He yelled, "Keep your forked tongue behind you teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a witless worm!" He raised his staff out from beside him, and Wormtongue grew frightened.

"His staff!" He began to back away and almost tripped over himself, "I _told_ you to take the wizards staff!" His voice cracked as he retreated.

The guards that were advancing toward them rushed forward, drawing their swords and attacking. A few ran toward Bellatrix, and she could feel her battle instincts coming over her. She drew her wand from her sleeve, and drew up a shield as a sword came down upon her, knocking the man backwards and into another.

Her wand was warm in her hand, and she threw a stunning spell at another guard with a ghastly shriek. He keeled over and feel to his knees, giving opportunity for her cleaned boots to come in contact with his face rather harshly, making a sickening crack and spurting blood on her dress.

A guard tried to take her from behind, but he was clumsy and loud, and she could hear him from a mile away. She turned on her heel and flicked her wand under her arm, sending a Confundus charm his way. Hit by the spell, he ceased his attack, standing limply and looking confused.

Her first instinct was to kill them instead of merely injuring, but something stopped her from doing so. She just couldn't bring herself to utter more dangerous curses.

Occupied by her own battles, she fought ignorant to the others, but now with no one coming for her, probably too afraid of what they saw her doing, she turned her attention back to Gandalf.

The king was writhing in his chair, lunging for the wizard but being held back by the wizard's power. His voice came then, but to Bellatrix it sounded as if there were two—the king's and a deeper, more malicious voice.

"If I go, Théoden… dies!" The king croaked with the odd combination of voices. Bellatrix recognized the symptoms of a possession, and looked upon the scene with wide eyes and an open mouth, practically drooling in anticipation.

"You did not kill me, you will not kill him!" Gandalf yelled, his voice booming, "Be gone!"

The king lunged for Gandalf once more, but was thrown back into the chair from the sheer force of Gandalf's power. He lied still for a moment, Bellatrix almost thought him dead, but then the years started to shed from his face like polyjuice, and a younger king then sat in the chair where the old had once been.

From the shadows, a bright white-clad woman ran toward the king as he begun to slump forward in his chair, catching him before he fell. Bellatrix recognized her as the figure she saw before from when they first entered, and assumed she was his daughter. The king opened his eyes slowly, and exchanged words with her as he stroked her face.

The scene becoming a bit too sappy for her, she turned her head and pretended to vomit.

Looking back, she noticed he had stood, and the woman sat next to him, beaming up at him, all smiles. Gandalf approached, offering his sword, and he gripped it in his hand. Suddenly his face grew dark, and he turned his head to look at Wormtongue, who was currently trapped beneath the thick leg of Gimli.

Wormtongue rose to his feet, running from the hall, the king and his court following. Legolas stayed behind, keeping an eye on Bellatrix as she magically cleaned some blood from off her dress. From outside, there was some shouting, but it did not stray him from approaching her.

"You fought admirably," he complemented her, "I do not understand what exactly it is that your wooden weapon emits, my lady, but I must admit I am happy you are on our side and not fighting against us."

He looked at her, and she met his gaze as she stuffed her wand back in her sleeve.

"I wasn't aware that there was another side." Her eyes glinted with curiosity, and he realized that she was sincere.

"Never mind it. That is a long story for another time." He said, and noticed her child-like curiosity disappearing.

"I can see that you are troubled." He said as he guided her away from the recovering guards to sit at a bench at a secluded corner. "My people have an innate sense to these types of things." He said softly while placing his hand over his chest.

A glint of something flickered over her eyes before it disappeared a second later.

"Get off me." She pushed the hand that he had on her shoulder off.

He replaced it quickly and this time squeezed soothingly, "I only mean to help."

She shoved her shoulder away just as Aragorn, Gimli, and the king's court returned through the doors.

"Save it, wretch."

**ooo**

The king and Gandalf returned some time later with a young boy and girl, _siblings _Bellatrix thought.

The woman, whom Bellatrix discovered was the king's niece, coddled them and fed them hot stew.

Bellatrix made another mock vomit, this time being scowled at by Aragorn. She sat at a table with Gimli, who was furiously devouring a large turkey leg and burping and spilling his mug of ale, as she reluctantly listened to Gandalf and Théoden bicker.

"This is but a taste of the terror that Saruman will unleash." He said gesturing toward the two children. "All the more potent for he is driven now by fear of Sauron. Ride out and meet him head on. Draw him away from your women and children. You must fight."

"You have two thousand good men riding north as we speak. Éomer is loyal to you. His men will return and fight for their king." Aragorn spoke up from near her.

Théoden sighed and rubbed his brow as he replied, "Éomer cannot help us. I know what it is that you want of me. But I will not bring further death to my people. I will not risk open war."

Bellatrix ears perked up at the mention of war. _So that is what's going on here? _She turned to Gimli, and tried to play the nice card since she didn't have anything against him.

"War?" She asked.

Gimli choked on his ale as he heard her, and picked up a napkin in replace of his mug to wipe his beard.

"You do not know lass?" he replied shocked.

She shook her head. He began to reply but then abruptly stopped, his eyes fixed on a figure behind her. She turned to see who had interrupted him and met the eyes of the old wizard himself.

'_He doesn't want me to know… What is he hiding?'_

"Then the decision is made." She heard Théoden speak to all in the hall, "We shall move the people to Helm's Deep."

**oOo**

**This may just be fluff for now, but be patient. There are plenty of sexual innuendos to last you till the story really gets going. Anyway, tell me what you think and review! (Thanks to all who did for the last chapter! RebeccaSeverusSnape, and Sayah Yuki!) **


	7. Chapter 7 Goblins, But Worse

**The Veil**

**Summary: ** Bellatrix Lestrange makes a realization during the final battle of Hogwarts: Voldemort doesn't love her and never will. All her endeavors were futile. She has a panic attack and falls through the same Veil that took her cousin, naught two years ago, at her hands no less. But what is behind the Veil? The Land of the Dead as many Wizards and Unspeakables suspect? Once you go in you never come out. Or a whole other world? …Middle Earth perhaps?  
**Categories:**romance, horror, adventure, comfort, humor**  
****Characters: ****OOC** **Bellatrix**,Legolas, Aragorn, Male/Male/Female, Threesome**  
****Genres:** crossover**  
****Warnings:**dark themes, murder, torture, sexually graphic scenes, **rated M for a reason****  
****Author's note: **I love the character of Bellatrix, and there doesn't seem to be enough crossover fics including her. So, I thought I'd do her some justice. Hopefully I'll succeed.

I do not intend to plagiarize either works by Rowling or Tolkien; I am merely using my imagination and applying it to their fantastic worlds. I've just tweaked some things to make the story relevant.**  
**

**Chapters:**7 of many

oOo

It had only taken a few hours for the people of Edoras to ready themselves for travel, gathering their carts and pulling donkeys, loading them up with the elderly and the children, and milling about collecting rations.

The man that had questioned them earlier stood at the door of the Meduseld, addressing the people, "By order of the king, the city must empty. We make for the refuge of Helms Deep. Do not burden yourselves with treasures. Take only what provisions you _need_."

Walking down the step from the horse-castle, Bellatrix followed Gandalf and the other three of his company to the stables. She understood that the King's people were moving to another location, but she didn't understand why. She had made her uncertainties known to Gandalf just before they left the hall, but he merely pretended he hadn't heard her.

If there was one thing Bellatrix disliked more than anything, it was people ignoring her.

Before she could sound off again however, Gimli made aloud his opinion.

"Helm's Deep!" He scoffed. "They flee to the mountains when they should stand and fight. Who will defend them if not their king?"

"He's only doing what he feels is best for the people." Aragorn replied, answering the comment made for Gandalf, "Helms Deeps has been in the past an unbeatable fortress, he knows it can save his people again."

"From what?" Bellatrix questioned, impatient. "What are these people fighting? Tell me, you sod!"

Her question was ignored again, but this time at least she got a responding look from one of Gandalf's eyes.

"He is leading his people into a trap I fear." He said as he led them into the stables closing the doors behind them and leading toward the unicorn-like horse. "He thinks he is leading them to safety, but that ravine will only lead to their death." He turned back from the horse toward Aragorn, "He will need you in the end, Aragorn. The people of Rohan will need you in the end. Your companions will need you. The defenses _have_ to hold."

"They will hold." Aragorn replied.

Gandalf nodded, "And that is not of which I fear." He returned his attention to the horse, "The Grey Pilgrim... that's what they used to call me. Three hundred lives of men I've walked this earth and now I have no time." He sighed and mounted in one great leap. "With luck, my search will not be in vain. Look to my coming at first light on the fifth day. At dawn, look to the East."

Aragorn walked back over to the stable doors and swung them open. "Go."

The horse gave a loud whinny as it bounded out of the stable, Legolas and Bellatrix jumping out of its path.

**ooo**

Bellatrix had been given a new horse unto which to ride, so she wouldn't have to share with a man that she wasn't married or had any relation to, to which the stable boys had been aghast of. But the horse didn't seem to like her very much, made known by the snips and lack of taking her direction, so she walked beside it leaving its reigns to hang limply.

"Don't worry you great brute, I don't like you very much either."

To her side, Gimli sat proudly atop his horse, the reigns held by Éowyn.

"—you don't see very many dwarf women. And in fact, they are so alike in voice and appearance, they are often mistaken for dwarf men!"

Éowyn giggled loudly at something, but Gimli just continued in jest.

"And this has given rise to the belief that there are no dwarf women, and that dwarves just spring out of holes in the ground!"

She laughed gaily that time, a Gimli laughed loudly in return.

Bellatrix crinkled her nose.

_Yes, how funny. You're just a regular comedian aren't you?_

She glanced at Éowyn, who had a bright smile on her face, and humphed.

_Well, you can seem hilarious when your audience is a dim as her back end._

She raised her hand to her mouth and uttered a jelly-legs jinx on the horse, causing it to toss Gimli off its back and run off into the distance.

This, of course, Bellatrix found hilarious, and started to join in on the laughter as Éowyn ran to help Gimli up.

The laughter had died down to an extent, and this time Bellatrix found herself beside the dwarf, listening to him ramble on about how magnificent dwarvish halls were, and retaliating every once in a while with how dwarves in her world served a queen, and maybe Gimli should serve her instead.

**ooo**

Éowyn had caught up with Aragorn. He was looking off into the distance, thinking about something deeply, when she decided to break his train of thought.

"Where is she?" She asked him.

He gave her a look, asking her to elaborate with his eyes.

"The woman who gave you that jewel." She nodded towards the roughly shining pendant beneath his collar.

He paused for a while, and she thought that he had decided not to answer. When she began to walk away though, he continued.

"She has sailed to the Undying Lands with all that is left of her kin." He said softly.

"My Lord?" She questioned.

"She gave it to me as our parting gift. I will never see her again." He said, and looked off again.

Éowyn chose to remain silent, and as they traveled further, gradually slowed her pace till she was a fair distance behind him.

**ooo**

Ahead of the company, Legolas had caught whiff of danger.

Just yonder was the corpse of one of the King's closest guard, and Gamling barely able to pull out his sword before the great reigned creature turned onto him next.

Legolas ran down to the scene, swiftly pulling his bow out and shooting the warg. He finished the Orc riding on top of it with his knife. Turning back, he yelled to Aragorn.

"A scout!"

The King looked panicked.

"What is it? What's going on?" He asked Aragorn as he was running back to him.

"Wargs!" He yelled, "Were under attack!"

Bellatrix' attention was grabbed by the villagers cry, she was too far behind in the company to hear what was going on, so she ran towards Aragorn, leaving her assigned horse behind. She passed Gimli trying to mount his horse, and ran into where the King and Aragorn were addressing the people.

"Get them out of here!" Aragorn yelled in Bellatrix' direction. She looked behind her, hoping he was addressing someone else, but when she saw no one, ignored his command.

"All riders to the head of the column!" Théoden yelled.

Gimli got some help getting on top of his stallion, and as he rode by, she looked for her own horse.

It was right behind where Théoden was arguing with Éowyn, telling her to lead the people to Helms Deep. She ran to it, jumping on like some hero, and riding off. She could just feel the glare directed on her back by the other woman, and turned to stick her tongue out at her.

_That's what happens when you don't have a mind for yourself. _

She retracted her tongue, and turned back into the direction she was travelling.

Only to yell in disgust.

Before her were the ugliest pair of creatures she had ever seen.

"Well aren't you a beauty?" She said to it.

It snarled at her, but she didn't get to hear its voice before she whipped her walnut wand out and sent a blast of purple his way.

Well, she was assuming it was a he.

There was no physical sign of damage, but both the beast and the ugly humanoid fell, severely injured, and on the brink of death.

Her horse whinnied beneath her, and she dismounted. It was easier to fight on foot anyway. She looked out at the men fighting, fighting some sort of creature she had no clue what they were. They looked like tall goblins, but much more sinister and obviously evil.

Is this what Gandalf didn't want her to know about?

That there was a war going on?

But doesn't every civilization have war?

What is so significant about this one?

Her thoughts returned to the fight, and she rushed in, skipping like a child underneath an afternoon sun.

Her cackles attracted the weird creatures to her, like dragons to gold, and her mindset changed. She looked at them approaching, smiling, showing her teeth and the sorry state they were in.

Bellatrix wasn't all about her looks.

_Sort of like these blokes._

The first one was knocked out of the way by a hot blast of air, hot enough to rip skin from flesh. It and its wolf-creature fell tumbling down the hill, snapping its neck in the process.

But as soon as the first was down, another replaced it. This time she had no mercy.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The killing cursed ripped its way from her lips, like she had no control of it. The green flash was a familiar, comforting thing, and the rush of using it spread from her wand arm to her boot-clad feet.

She laughed and licked the length of her wand; how beautiful.

She keeled over in laughter, hugging her stomach as the peals of laughter rolled over her. Then, lifting her head, her eyes became bloodshot, dilated with pure adrenaline.

"Oh no, you don't." She whispered, as another drew his sword and came lunging for her.

She swung up her arm at it, and in a flash a whip flew out of the tip, wrapping itself around him, squeezing with a thunder-like grip. She whipped her arm again, the whip becoming tighter, strangling the thing and then using him as a dagger to knock down two others. And just as she was starting to get into it, she found that there were none left.

Her eyes darted around, and found nothing to take her excitement out upon.

The smirk left her face and she returned to her upright position, using her right leg to support her weight.

"Just when it was getting fun," she sighed.

**ooo**

She found Legolas and Gimli by the cliffs edge, looking down at the river below with sadness painted on their faces. Aragorn was missing from the two, and she had a feeling he was floating down the river just now.

"So I guess our friend took a little tumble?" She commented, not seeing the glare from the Elf.

"I can bring him back if you want you know." She said, tip-toeing dangerously close to the edge. She raised her wand but Legolas caught her arm before she had chance to flick it.

"If this is the way fate meant for this to happen, then do not meddle in its course." He turned and motioned for her and Gimli to follow.

"Do not worry," he said to them both, "he will be back."

**ooo**

And Bellatrix had only just enough time to remark on the sorry state of Helms Deep before he was back.

He was just entering conversation with Legolas, when she saw him. Absolutely disheveled, damp and dirty—a complete opposite of what the Elf looked like beside him. She was sitting against the wall, on a spot which was covered in heaps of moss (to cushion her butt), near where Éowyn stood with a basket of rations, watching the same pair Bellatrix had her eyes on.

They both saw Legolas hand something glittering to Aragorn, and Bellatrix recognized it as the necklace her usually wore around his neck.

For some reason, this made Éowyn frown and instead of running toward him as Bellatrix thought was her intentions in the first place, turned curtly around and flew down some stairs. She kept watching though, and saw him place the jewel in one of his many pockets, thanking Legolas in the process.

_Wonder what that's all about._

He saw her as he stepped away from Legolas, and walked over in her direction. He stopped a mere foot away from her.

"I didn't think I would miss your face." He scoffed, "Alright?" He asked about her well-being.

She raised her knees to rest her elbows on them, "Alright." She replied.

"You fought valiantly before." He softly said to her.

The tone of his voice made her scrunch up her nose. She saw Legolas walk over to them and stop to lean against the wall beside her.

"You have yet to see me _fight_." She laughed, running her fingers through her hair and leaving her hand tangled in the curls that she had released from Legolas' braid.

"Regardless, I want your word." He said to her, placing his hand on her knee.

"What?" She asked, looking him in the eye. "My word on what terms?" She could tell Legolas was listening intently.

He blinked a few times, then opened his mouth.

"Your about to enter a war like no other you have seen before."

She was about to retaliate that she had been in war before when he broke her off with a raised hand.

"I know you are a seasoned warrior, I have seen your abilities."

"Then—"

He raised his hand again.

"You will see an army of such a great number that I know you have _never_ seen the like of."

Her interest was now sparked.

"I need you to give me your word that you will not switch to the other side. I need you to promise to me that you will not betray us."

_Ah, and _here _was Gandalf's intentions._

She thought of the old coot, and laughed, laughed right in Aragorn's face. She grabbed the sides of his cheeks with both her hands, and smooshed them together.

"I don't make promises Aragorn." She said, smooshing his cheeks closer together.

"What say you Bellatrix Black?"

The dropped her hands from his face and stood, leaning on Legolas and wrapping her arms around his, looking up into his eyes.

"Well," she said, mockingly batting her eyelashes at him.

"If I say no I might have a staff shoved up me arse."

**oOo**

**Yay! Finally an update! Sorry about the wait ya'll. This one was pretty much just a filler until the big battle, which I have yet to write . So give me ideas! Anything you'd like me to have, anything you'd like me to omit, anything you'd like really! Because I'd really appreciate it. A big THANK YOU to all who reviewed (****DangoDaikazaku****, ****Undead Artist****, ****gunitatsuhiko****, ****midorimouse7****, ****arturus****, ****minoki****, and ****RebeccaSeverusSnape****) and to all those who are keeping tabs on this story! Much appreciated! And remember, give me your opinion! It usually inspires me to write more.**


	8. Chapter 8 Everything Good in the World

**The Veil**

**Summary: ** Bellatrix Lestrange makes a realization during the final battle of Hogwarts: Voldemort doesn't love her and never will. All her endeavors were futile. She has a panic attack and falls through the same Veil that took her cousin, naught two years ago, at her hands no less. But what is behind the Veil? The Land of the Dead as many Wizards and Unspeakables suspect? Once you go in you never come out. Or a whole other world? …Middle Earth perhaps?  
**Categories: **romance, horror, adventure, comfort, humor  
**Characters: ****OOC** **Bellatrix**,Legolas, Aragorn, Male/Male/Female, Threesome  
**Genres:** crossover  
**Warnings: **dark themes, murder, torture, sexually graphic scenes, **rated M for a reason**  
**Author's note: **I love the character of Bellatrix, and there doesn't seem to be enough crossover fics including her. So, I thought I'd do her some justice. Hopefully I'll succeed.

I do not intend to plagiarize either works by Rowling or Tolkien; I am merely using my imagination and applying it to their fantastic worlds. I've just tweaked some things to make the story relevant.

**Chapters: **8 of many

**A/N: If you are squeamish at all, read the warnings above, one more time.**

**oOo**

_(Recap: _

"_I don't make promises Aragorn." She said, smooshing his cheeks closer together._

"_What say you Bellatrix Lestrange?"_

_The dropped her hands from his face and stood, leaning on Legolas and wrapping her arms around his, looking up into his eyes._

"_Well," she said, mockingly batting her eyelashes at him._

"_If I say no I might have a staff shoved up me arse.")_

Aragorn rose unto his feet, becoming level with the other two.

"Come, lets us see what the King has in store."

Bellatrix and Legolas followed him into the chamber, where the king and his closest court stood discussing matters. Théoden looked shocked to see Aragorn, and almost instantly they engaged. Legolas tapped Bellatrix, and together they went to sit at one of the tables to the side, away from the King, but not too far to be omitted from hearing the conversation.

Unfortunately, Bellatrix ears were not as strongly equipped as Legolas' and she heard only bits and pieces.

"A great host you say—"

"—has emptied. Ten thousand at least."

"—thousand?"

"An army bred for a single purpose—to destroy the world of men."

Bellatrix, whom had been previously carving crude pictures into the table with a knife she had found, looked starkly up.

Legolas caught her eye; they held a questioning look.

She held the knife in her had like a child would do a spoon against the tabletop, and looked back at him, a growing grin forming on her face. The smile then turned from something sweet, into something Legolas had only seen on creatures so evil.

_Oh, Bella could hardly wait._

**

* * *

**

The armory was packed with men, and Bellatrix felt like the one tiny little seedless grape on the packed vine full of seed-filled grapes.

She had only come because she was tired of being harassed about joining the other women in the caves, and was hoping to escape the badgering. Of course, she did not let those who pressed that 'it would be safer' for her to go be let off lightly, and she had to be separated from a man in his twenties who insisted because she 'was a woman and women were delicate creatures' that she'd better go; in her best interest of course.

Gimli had cheered her on ("Aha! See to it that your fist meets his face!", as she had decidedly taken matters _literally_ in her own hands, or in other words, the muggle way), but Aragorn did not find it one bit funny, and had scolded her all hundred-and-something steps down into the room.

"—next time, at least try to act like a lady." He said, before picking up a sword and examining its weight.

She picked up another from the bin, and immediately her arm fell to the floor with the weight of it, along with most of her body.

"Ah!" She dropped it's entirety on the stone floor, and made to kick it with her foot before hissing at it between her teeth and deciding to keep her foot free of bruises, "Blasted muggle contraption."

Someone snickered beside her, and she quickly turned to see who the culprit was. She recognized it as the man from before, and when he had saw that she had saw him, started to make his escape. He ran through the crowd and around the corner before she could chase after him, due to a strong Elven grip on her arm.

"Bellatrix, please, we mustn't make too many enemies of these people." He said softly, turning her around to the others.

She shook his hand off, and went to go stand by Gimli.

"Just so you know," he grunted in jest, "I would have had your back."

Aragorn gave them a stern look, not unlike one of the many Gandalf had given her, and turned back to his observations. He placed another sword he was looking at back into its bin, and turned to look at the men.

"These are no soldiers." He sighed.

Gimli croaked, "Most have seen to many winters."

"Or too few." Legolas' face grew conflicted, "Look at them, they're frightened. I can see it in their eyes."

The dull murmur in the room grew silent, and most turned to look at the elf. Bellatrix had to hold back a sarcastic giggle. Then, he spoke out to Aragorn in a strange tongue, and suddenly Bellatrix was reminded of the voices, the voices that had coaxed her into the veil, the voices that brought her _here_.

Then, then she heard it again, this time, from Aragorn's mouth. An ancient language, and this time she was sure of what it was, positive.

It came again, from Legolas. But instead of the tone it had before, she felt it was stronger, more aggressive and direct. If only she could understand, then maybe she could be a step closer to understanding why the Veil had brought her here. Why? What was its purp-?

"Then I shall be one of them!"

And then it was gone. As Aragorn spoke, her fixation dissipated, and she felt released from a strange spell.

Aragorn had left, leaving behind a sorry-stated Elf, held back by a dwarf. Bellatrix shook her head, wondering what had just happened.

**

* * *

**

The sky clouded up remarkably fast, giant rain clouds rushing in, filling every inch above with dark grey, the only thing missing the shape of a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth.

Or maybe that was just Bellatrix.

She had left the main armory with Legolas and the Dwarf, following them to a small room where they found the man, reconciled, and began fitting each other with armor.

A horn, loud and clear rang through the humid air.

"That is no Orc horn!" Legolas said.

They all rushed out side, Bellatrix following in the rear. Before them, tall, shining things stood, in perfect alignment with each other, led by an unhelmeted leader. They were mostly cloaked, but a sense of regal-ness seeped off of their faces in the form of a glow. There were gasps among those around her, and the king stepped forward in wonder.

"How is this possible?" He gasped.

The leader glided forward, fixing Bellatrix' eyes on him, coming closer to the steps near the King.

"I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell. An alliance once existed between Elves and men. Long ago we fought and died together." He looked up at the King and Aragorn, "We come to honor that allegiance."

Aragorn rushed the shiny man, saying something Bellatrix did not catch, and nearly toppled him over in a giant embrace.

"You are most welcome!"

Legolas and the leader of the glittering people grasped shoulders, and Bellatrix instantly detected the similarities between them.

_Great, more house-elves._

She drew up her nose in annoyance.

**

* * *

**

Bellatrix had the odd feeling that she had been here before.

The way her shoulders tensed, and her jaw became slack and then tightened like someone was turning a gear until it was so tight the muscle was pulled taught, giving her leverage to place a slight twirk in the corner of her lips.

The familiar feeling of battle.

She could feel it beginning in her neck. Feel it in her stomach, filling it with a hunger, and not one so easily satisfied. Her hands began to shake and twitch and she rubbed them together, hoping that would keep them still.

In the distance, a great wall of light came, and as it got closer, individual creatures were visible, all grunting with great broadswords and spears. They were larger than the devilish things from the plains, that she was sure of. There were thousands, probably tens of thousands, nowhere near the number of the armies she had been in or seen. There was probably no chance they would survive, but she was sure at least she wouldn't go out without a _bang_.

To her left, Gimli stood, barely able to see over the wall in front of them "You could have picked a better spot."

Legolas smirked, and behind the three of them Aragorn appeared.

"Well lad," Gimli, "Whatever luck you live by, let's hope that it lasts the night."

The sky rumbled, and thick droplets of rain began to fall. The quickly drenched her hair, and turned the frizzy mass into a heavy dark curtain of curls.

"Your friends are with you, Aragorn."

There was a pause.

"Let's hope they last the night."

The sounds of the army grew louder, and louder. Aragorn yelled out commands in the ancient tongue to the Elven warriors around her. The army stopped a ways from the Deep, and slowly with quickening pace, they stomped on the ground; the sound began to mingle with Bellatrix' heartbeat, the two becoming indistinguishable from one another.

Her eyes fell closed, becoming lost in the booming and the grunting. Then suddenly, it all stopped, and then came again louder, and with such ferocity that she opened her eyes.

Arrows flew toward the enemy, from men and elves alike, whipping past her head, with mere millimeters to spare. The enemy rushed toward the Deeping Walls, triggering her to draw her wand from beneath her sleeve.

It was pulsating, vibrating with its own need, and when her hand connected with the handle, she felt a sudden icy cold feeling rush from her fingertips and straight toward a spot on the lower part of her head, where it connected with the spinal chord.

It took control, and her judgment became clouded.

She stepped up onto the short wall in front of her, pulling herself up and standing on top of it, legs widely spread for balance. She tossed her head back, and from the recesses of her chest came a cackle, so loud and malicious that it echoed against the mountains.

Then, she whipped her body back up and with it came her arm and wand, shooting a flash toward the sky, shaping some cloud into the familiar dark mark.

Ladders came next from below, and as the Uruk-hai start to climb, cries of 'ladders!' sprung from many around her.

"Send them to me! C'mon!" Gimli yelled.

A hand came from behind and pulled her down, just as the Uruk-hai started to spill over onto the ledge. She didn't bother looking at who had pulled her.

Before her, a tall beast screamed at her, spitting a nasty liquid from its mouth. It pulled out its sword and rushed toward her.

She flicked her wand, and from it the killing curse sprung, not even needing to be uttered from her lips to know that it was what she had first in mind. Bellatrix laughed some more as the beast fell, only to be replaced by a thousand more.

She whipped her wand toward the first, an electric bolt shooting it straight in the forehead, killing him instantly and knocking him over the wall down below. A whip shot out of her wand, and wrapped around another, smashing his head against a rock and using him as a projectile to kill some in the crowds below, its brains flying in the air like a rubbery boomerang.

She yelled back at them as they yelled at her, and with it air so cold spilled from her lips, turning the rain into small ice daggers, then using them too pierce the hands and faces of the Uruk-hai.

She started to climb some stairs, on the way knocking one underhanded in the snout, shoving its nose into its brain, and then blasting it to pieces, blood shooting everywhere, and splashing on her face.

Another she chopped clean in two, spraying its smelly black blood on its companions, angering them further.

_Bloodlust; _Bellatrix was rank with it.

A few times, she had gone blank, and would come back to her senses yards from where she thought she just was, a trail of bodies between her and the previous spot.

"_Confringo!_"

An Uruk-hai burst into flames, catching some around it on fire as well, its shrieks loud and pig-like. From behind, another tried to over take her, but she spun around, and raising her wand-less hand, choked it from afar, then threw it into another's sword, piercing it clean through.

She didn't even need her wand to kill.

She threw her head back, and then breathed into her hand, and fire spouted out, becoming larger and turning into a massive snake. She sent it into a mass of the monsters, and as it went it roared audibly before burning them into a crisp immediately, eliminating all of the Uruk-hai in her area, their ash becoming mud with the rain on top of the stone floor.

The stone under her began to crack, becoming hot because of the magic coming off the witch.

A chanting started from the enemy. Deafening yells coming from below. She ran to the wall, spotting a skinny thing running toward the wall under her erratically, holding a torch in its hand.

She heard a voice yelling, and saw arrows land in its shoulders, not slowing it down much.

"_Diffindo!_" She yelled, hurling the charm its way.

But it was too late; the spell only knocked him over, throwing him towards his goal.

BOOM.

The wall exploded.

Large boulders were thrown everywhere, bodies and dust shooting far up into the sky.

And suddenly, Bellatrix was looking at it all from inside, an enormous wooden door being shut by men and braced with wooden planks.

Had she just disapparated?

But she thought she couldn't?

Didn't it not work before, when she first arrived at this god-forsaken place?

Someone had shouted.

"Brace the gate!"

She ran forward towards the gate, as some men brought timbers forward. She raised her wand and shouted, "_Duro!_" A thin film spread over the wood, hardening it slightly.

"Hold back the gate!"

The Uruk-hai started to pierce little holes in the door, and before long, the little holes became bigger and bigger.

"Retreat!"

"Into the Keep!"

Bellatrix turned on her heel, running back with the other men into the Keep. There, she found the king and Aragorn arguing.

"Send word for the women and children to make for the mountain pass. And barricade the entrance!"

She ran toward them, the king with a hopeless look upon his face.

"So much death." He murmured, " What can men do against such reckless hate?"

Aragorn paused, "Ride out with me. Ride out and meet them."

"For death and glory." Théoden was on the verge of whimpering.

"For Rohan. For your people." Aragorn responded, taking the King by his shoulders.

Bellatrix wanted to shake the little bastard.

From the window, a light started to shine.

"The sun is rising." Gimli said.

"Gandalf!" Bellatrix yelled, "_Now_ he decides to come!"

A smile sprung to Théoden's face. "Yes. Yes! The horn of Helm Hammerhand shall sound in the deep one last time!"

Gimli took Bellatrix by the hand, and ran with her into a small, closet-sized room. In it, the mouthpiece of a large horn stood.

"Yes!" he yelled, and stepped up to it, placed his lips onto the piece, and blew with gusto.

The sound was loud, but subdued; not nearly strong enough.

Bellatrix raised her wand, "_Sonorus_!"

The sound was heightened immediately, and was so loud, Bellatrix covered her ears. It seemed to go on forever, and when it stopped, all was quiet.

Gimli sighed, "Its over." he said.

"Its over?" She asked.

"Yes, let us go and check on Aragorn and the Elf."

Inside her, something was quenched, only to be replaced with something akin to nervousness.

**

* * *

**

Out in the plains, the dead were strewn everywhere. Mostly the bodies of dead Uruk-hai, and she constantly had to step over them.

"Victory! We have Victory!" She heard Théoden cry and all around her, solders cried back and began to tally the dead.

Gimli walked over to an Uruk that had an ax of his in its brain, sat on it as if it was a stool, took out a pipe, and began to smoke.

She spotted Legolas walking towards them, and as her got close took out his bow and began to stroke it.

"Final count… 42." He said.

Gimli replied, amused, "Forty-two? Oh, that's not bad for a pointy-eared Elvish princeling. I myself am sitting pretty on Forty-three." He leaned forward in emphasis.

Suddenly, Legolas knocked an arrow and shot the Uruk between Gimli's legs.

"Forty-three." He said.

"He was already dead." Gimli replied.

"He was twitching." Legolas retorted.

"He was twitching because he's got my ax embedded in his nervous system!" He growled, moving the axe thus making the Orc move as well.

Bellatrix snickered, causing Gimli to look up at her with alarm.

"What are _you_ laughing at?"

"Oh, nothing." She said as she squatted down on the ground between the both of them, still covered in Orc blood. "I just realized that I outscored you both."

After a pause Gimli spoke, "Well then, tell us what it is."

She got up from where she was sitting and turned to go to Gandalf.

"That's for me to know and you to bloody well find out."

**oOo**

**Thanks to all who reviewed and to all those actually taking time to watch this story. I'm pretty much stuck behind a ruse of slight writers block right now, so give me your opinions and ideas please! Any ideas on how to get the romance initiated would be pretty dapper!**

**THANKS TO: **

**midorimouse7**** –I realize I only answered your point only a bit, but I think we should probably save that issue for the battle of Pelannor Fields, no? Thanks! I really appreciate it!**

**minoki –Thanks for catching that little slip! I tend to read over, but not intensely enough to pick up on little mistakes. Thanks.**

**RebeccaSeverusSnape –Well, for fantastic review every time, I couldn't thank you enough. **

**Azera-v –We all love Bellatrix in a weird way, don't we?**

**rogue solus**** –Muahahaha! …Satisfied?**

**CynicalDonkeys –Who's Gilbert?**

**DeathSidhe –Well, she wasn't drenched in blood, but I figure that amount was enough.**

**and anyone else I've forgotten or missed, thanks a tiddle!**


	9. Chapter 9 The Little Hairy Women

**The Veil**

I do not intend to plagiarize either works by Rowling or Tolkien; I am merely using my imagination and applying it to their fantastic worlds. I've just tweaked some things to make the story relevant. 

**Chapters:**9 of many

**A/N: Okay to address a few burning questions from my readers:**

**Bellatrix as being portrayed a little less evil here than in the books is probably more suiting for this story, as she is trying to escape her past in a way, and trying to begin a new one, even though she really is kept in the dark about the world around her. Sometimes the things she does doesn't make too much sense, but she's crazy, remember?**

**I do not want to take the exact dialogue from the movies and insert it here, as that gets a bit boring, so I try to change it a bit for interests sake, and because most of my readers practically know all the lines anyway **** Plus, the movie's dialogue is more fresh in my mind than the book's (with both series), so those are the plotlines were leaning more towards.**

**I try to update as often as I can, but as I am starting college in the fall, I get preoccupied with taking care of those issues. The more reviews I get, the faster I write new chapters, hinthint.**

**I admit, certain events have been a bit rushed, but that was only because either their significance wasn't too great, or because the reality of the situation is rushed. The cut between scenes might be a bit abrupt, but I would be wasting yours and mine's precious time.**

**Sorry if I offended anyone.**

**P.S. If you've made it this far, you should know the rating.**

**oOo**

There she was again, atop some horse, in another journey through a forest.

Moss hung down yards from every tree, swiping her shoulders as she rode before Aragorn, making her skin itchy. Everything was a dull grey-green, and to be honest, quite boring.

It was enough that she had to _share_ a horse, with Aragorn no less, it was even worse that the ride had been absolutely monotonous. Aragorn was not much of a talker, and when he did voluntarily speak, it was a short curt answer or a grunt.

She wished that it was possible to share a horse with Gimli.

Past trees, and trees, and more trees, Gandalf lead them on, as usual, for where would they be without him? He was being dodgy towards her as of late, and therefore had not formally spoken to her since his last leave before the battle.

It seemed that she was being ignored by everyone.

_And Bellatrix Black needs excitement._

As the company grew closer and closer to their destination, talking had become more and more scarce, only the occasional "this way!" by Gandalf was uttered. White walls were suddenly in view, being revealed by some tall trees, ones, that Bellatrix would note, that were not of similar species to any she had seen before. Tension between the company was high, but was broken suddenly by-

"—except you've never worked a day in your life!"

A voice that shot out in the silence; it sounded much like a young man. Aragorn's once tense shoulders relaxed.

Around the bend, what seemed to be two boys sat amongst rocks and baskets of food, smoking deeply from small wooden pipes. A yell came from Gimli behind her, and upon being seen by the first, and then shortly the second, they stood up, the slightly taller of the two raising his hands up and wide.

"Welcome my Lords, to Isengard!"

The company began to laugh joyously, Gimli speaking out in his roaring and thunderous voice, "Here, you've spent many days it seems, feasting and, and… smoking! Young rascals, such a merry hunt you've led us on!"

The shorter of the two spoke, "Where only enjoying a few well-earned comforts." he waved his hand back toward a shed-looking structure, "You'll find, master dwarf, that the salted pork is particularly good."

"Salted pork?" It came out as a gasp. "Oh…"

Gandalf muttered something disapproving, than turned to survey the area.

"Bloody hell." Bellatrix followed his gaze.

It was a great rink of sorts, well-more like a pool, with a giant obsidian tower directly at the center. In the distance, a river poured from some mountain-like structures, feeding the watery ground. Trees were scattered here and there, picking up dead orcs and tossing them into a pile— Trees?

Bellatrix jumped in Aragorn's lap, and drew her wand instinctively.

These were no Womping Willows. It seemed as though they were talking to each other.

_Well, honestly,_ I_ really shouldn't be the one to be too surprised. _She thought.

"Well, were not the ones running things around here," One of them told Gimli, "we're following orders, _Treebeard's_ orders."

"He's the one who's taken over_ management_."

She relaxed again, but became extremely curious about the two boys.

"Oi!" She directed at them, and upon looking, discovered there overly-large and hairy feet, "Just exactly what _are_ you?"

"Well my Lady," His eyes brightened upon seeing her.

_Probably gets this a lot._

"We," he grabbed the others arm, "are hobbits."

"From the Shire!" the other chirped.

"Hobbits." Gandalf muttered.

"What? Horklumps?" Bellatrix questioned.

"No! Hobbits!" The taller pointed to himself, "I am Meriadoc Brandybuck," he bowed slightly, "but you may call me Merry!"

The other bowed lower, his curly hair covering his face, "And I am Peregrin Took, but most call me Pippin!" He rose back up quickly, and smiled in a goofy manner.

"We've been searching for them all this time, Bellatrix." Aragorn told her in her ear, "We believed them to be dead."

"Oh," she said, glad to have, even if it was a bit of information told to her. She recollected her attention to the imps, "I am Bellatrix, Queen of all witches and wizards." She heard Gandalf snort behind her. "Gandalf is my understudy." She winked at the old man, "He's still got a lot to learn."

Pippin's eyes widened. Merry's jaw became slack, just a bit.

"Do not be so gullible, my friends." Aragorn spoke, "Not all that she says is true."

She elbowed him, "Oh, so I guess I'm not allowed to have a bit of fun?" she crossed her arms childlishly, and rubbed her frizzy hair in his face. He made a little sniffle, and held back a sneeze.

Regardless, the little things laughed, "Glad to- glad to be of your acquaintance, my Queen."

Gimli chuckled, "She certainly has the personality of one."

She narrowed her eyes at him, "Don't tempt me."

A tree walked, or stomped, its way toward the company, wading through the water, stepping down and making loud crunches underneath its branches.

"Young master, Gandalf. I'm glad you've come." His voice was the deepest she had ever heard, rumbling and quite overwhelming. "Wood and water, stock and stone I can master, but there's a wizard to manage here; locked in his tower."

"And there he must stay," Gandalf replied, "Under your watch."

Bellatrix lifted her head to look at the furthest tips of the tower. Sharp and black, it stood like a fish out of water, but in water. A white speck could be seen looking down from a balcony, but then disappeared within the towers blackness.

"Let us just kill him and be done with it!" Gimli roared.

"No need Gimli," Gandalf smiled, "He has no power anymore."

Treebeard nodded, in an awkward, tree-like manner. "Trees will come back to live here. Young trees—"

Pippin, seeing something in the water, jumped down from where he was standing, and waded out to it.

"Pippin!"

"Wild trees-"

He picked it out from the pool.

Treebeard gasped, midsentence. "Bless my bark!"

In Pippins hands, was a darkened crystal ball. Bellatrix didn't have much patience for Divination during her Hogwarts years, but could recognize the object upon seeing it.

"Peregrin Took, I'll take that, my lad." Gandalf said, motioning his hand.

Pippin, holding the ball, looked at Gandalf, then at the ball again.

"Quickly now!" Gandalf urged.

Reluctantly, Pippin handed the ball to him. He immediately wrapped and hid it under his brown robes.

"I leave responsibility of Isengard to you Treebeard," Gandalf says, "May you return it to its original state."

"It will be much more better than that, my friend."

"Good, Good." He nods.

The hobbits hopped onto the backs of horses, holding on to the persons in front of them.

Gandalf led the way once more, and from Isengard they all departed.

**ooo**

Returning to Edoras took some time, Bellatrix complaining that they could all just apparate there, but when they did arrive, she discovered the sight of the village people running around frantically.

Some held baskets of bread, others fruits and sweets, and pairs of men carried barrels of sloshing liquid towards the Meduseld. Mothers were sending their children to bed, many of them protesting.

"What's going on?" She asked Aragorn.

He urged the horse to stables, getting off the horse himself and then offering her a hand that was ignored.

"There is to be a celebration." He said as he watched her get down by herself, nearly falling.

"A celebration?" She asked.

"For the victory." Legolas replied behind them, holding the reins of his horse, Gimli still on top.

"Ah." She said, in a low voice. "Must we all be present?"

A gasp was heard behind her. She turned, finding three girls, all looking relatively identical with their waxy hair and small noses.

"But my Lady!" One of them said, "You are expected to be there! As a hero of war, the people all wish to honor you."

"Oh, codswallop."

**ooo**

She had been _washed_.

She had been _brushed_.

She had been _waxed_, and had been _perfumed_.

Her hair was arranged so that her curls looked "_gorgeous_", pinned here and there with little golden trinkets. She was stuffed into a billowy green dress; low cut, curve-hugging, and extremely _feminine_. Geaven, Chede, and Astievia "pampered" her till every inch of her scalp felt raw. Her arms were pink, and her toes were the cleanest she had seen then in a long time, free of dirt and most notably, blood.

She felt fucking ridiculous.

She had considered murdering them as soon as they told her to take off her clothes, but stopped herself from doing so.

Gandalf would be furious.

They had no mirror for her to survey the damage. She dreaded leaving the room; she didn't want to know what people would think. They had been all slightly scared of her before, but now they would just think of her as a joke.

Needless to say, she felt self-conscious, maybe for one of the first times in her life.

The girls had left her alone after while leaving a matching pair of shoes by the vanity, a pair that Bellatrix was reluctant to put on, after seeing just how dainty they were. From the window of the room, the sun had begun to set, the red –orange glow illuminating the plains. It was picturesque, Bellatrix couldn't deny, and inside her stomach felt queasy.

This feeling was unlike most she had felt, a nervousness she identified after a few moments.

Nervous… Bella, nervous?

From the hall she could hear laughter, one tinkling, and the other of a deeper tone. A man and a woman.

_Love_, what did that mean to her? She thought she had it, she thought she deserved it, but she was wrong. Rodolphus hadn't loved her, and neither did—

No. He was history now.

The Dark Lord was only and ink splotch on the pages of her story, unable to be wiped up with out a stain. But she would conquer, she would rewrite that page. She would start over.

The fire by her had consumed its logs, warming her cold limbs. She was always cold, something that had matched her personality.

But she didn't want to be cold anymore.

_She was done with her past…_

A series of knocks came to the door, and Bellatrix walked towards it, hand on the handle, she pulled it open.

…_And was ready for her future._

**ooo**

The three men watched as Bellatrix was pulled away by the girls, Gimli snickering under his breath.

"Suppose she'll let them dress her up?" Aragorn jested.

"Not sure my friend," Legolas replied, "You know how full of pride she is."

He helped Gimli off his horse, and walked the steed into the stables, making sure the stable hand received him. He, Aragorn, and Gimli were led into one of the main rooms where the males of the fellowship would be sleeping. There, already Gandalf was sitting, watching Merry and Pippin as they fooled around with Èomer. They were dressed nicely, all fresh and scented.

Legolas made his way to one of the four attached washrooms, finding a refilled bath steaming with heat at the center. Soaps and towels lay on the vanity to the side, placed there meticulously.

Making sure the door behind was closed, he removed his tunic and undershirt, folding them neatly, as dirty as they were, and stacking them in a pile on the floor. He stepped to the bath and felt the water. Finding it warm and inviting, stripped himself of his trousers.

He lifted himself in, after making sure his weapons lay close to the bath, and eased himself into the water. He hissed at the heat, but felt his muscles relax after a few moments.

It felt like bliss.

After months of pure outdoors and ruggedness, the elf was thankful to relieve his constant uncomforting feeling of being covered in filth. He raised his hands to release his braids, his scalp singing of joy at being loosened after months of being pulled taut.

Reaching for the soap he lathered his hair, rinsing it in the water and then starting on his body. He rubbed soap suds into the skin on his arms, his legs and his face, freeing them from stickiness and irritation. His hands went to the valleys of his pectorals and his abdominals, rubbing in the soap and making sure they where free from the stink of sweat, most of it not his own.

His mind wandered as he washed his body even further, lingering at the thought of a certain woman.

She had been brave during battle, brave and daring; qualities that he had always found to be lacking in most of the female breed.

She was dark of course, something that he had intended to ask her about, but he reminded himself that no person came without a history.

But as a woman, Legolas found her to be charming… as most elves would have. The nobler kind had always had a soft spot for women, as they embodied everything beautiful and serene in the world.

Granted, Bellatrix wasn't exactly serene, and in some sense not very beautiful, but it only made Legolas more intrigued. He wished to know more about her, to know how she became the way she was.

The morbid, witty, dangerous, mysterious, shadowy, interesting…

Looking down, Legolas noticed just exactly _where_ he was cleaning, and promptly turned red.

Stepping out of the tub after a final rinse and drying himself off, he put on a new set of clothes and made his way to a certain room.

He had to ask a maid just where it was exactly located, and when he finally found the door, it was ajar.

**ooo**

When she swung the door back, Aragorn stood here, dirt free and odorless.

_Well, it certainly did him some good. _

He looked slightly off, something about him on a twirk. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other.

"Bellatrix," He nodded, "I have come to escort you to the party."

He lent her his arm. "If you'll have me."

After a few moments of silence, Bellatrix laughed.

"You? Escort me?" She laughed again, "That's a laugh!"

She stepped out of the doorway, making him take a step back, "I'll be the one to escort you, idiot."

She held out her arm, and Aragorn took it. His hand felt warm through the thin bell sleeves of her dress and she led him down the hall, barefoot.

"You do look quite beautiful tonight, my Lady." He said earnestly

That really made her laugh.

**ooo**

"Tonight, we remember and honor those who gave their blood to defend our country! Hail the victorious dead!"

"HAIL!"

Along long tables in the hall was nearly twice the amount of food Bellatrix had ever seen in one sitting, even when she still went to Hogwarts. Men, and a few women, sat shoulder to shoulder, drinking deeply from large mugs of ale, laughing and singing songs of merriment.

She lost Aragorn a while ago, after the King's speech had ended and the celebration began, and found Legolas and Gimli sitting at a table, Legolas looking a little disappointed. She sat next to him, across from Gimli and leaned her torso on his.

"Oh, itty bitty elfy," she cooed in a baby voice, "What's got your ears in a twist?" She raised her arms to gesture at the whole party, "Come on! Lets celebrate!"

And, as if on queue, Èomer arrived, holding multiple mugs of ale, the liquid spilling from the overflowing tops of a few of them, and set them on the table top.

"No pauses," He said, "No spills." He handed a mug to each of them.

"And no regurgitation!" Gimli lifted the mug to his mouth, and begun to drink deeply from it. A few men around them laughed.

"So it's a drinking game?" Legolas asked.

Bellatrix wrapped her arm around his shoulders, grabbing a mug with her other hand.

"Live a little!" She told him, and proceeded to gulp her drink down.

Gimli raised his head from his mug and laughed loudly, "Last one standing wins!"

Legolas picked up his mug tentatively, and brought it to his lips. She could see from the corner of her eye him reach out the tip of his tongue to shyly taste the liquid before deeming it drinkable, and sipping it.

**ooo**

Hours must have passed, Bellatrix really didn't know, but what she did know was that she was very, very, very drunk.

The crowd around the four had grown larger, and Bellatrix even had her own little cheerleading team. Every time she would set an empty mug down, the men around her would yell loudly, banging their hands on the tables and joking about the lacking 'manliness' of both the Elf and the dwarf.

Èomer dropped out of the game a while ago, finding it funnier to watch the other three go at it.

Gimli was flat off his rocker, rambling on about things that made no sense. Bellatrix' eyes were barely open, becoming dark little squints, her smile obscuring her vision. She hadn't said a word for a long time, but only because she was giggling non-stop. Legolas looked unaffected, but confused as to why his friends were acting the way they were.

Gimli suddenly let out a great big fart, causing Bellatrix to burst out in giggles, falling on top of Legolas in laughter. In the background, the hobbits could be heard singing and stamping their feet on top of the tables. They had a crowd gathered, cheering them on.

"_Oh, you can drink your fancy ales—"_

Gimli made a roar-like noise, "It's the dwarves that go swimming," he burped, "with little, hairy women!" He laughed like a frog, something Bellatrix found hilarious, before he picked up another drink.

"I feel something." Legolas announced, looking at his fingers, "A tingle in my fingers." He looked up seriously at Èomer, "I think it's affecting me!"

"_You can drink them by the flagon-"_

"What did I say?" Gimli shouted, "The lad can't hold his liquor!"

Then, his eyes promptly crossed to his nose, and he fell backwards off his seat.

"_But the only brew for the brave and true—"_

Legolas looked at Bellatrix, finding her suddenly face-up, laying her head in his lap. She had her eyes closed, but her mouth was open, a slight dribble of drool leaking out the side.

"Game over." He said.

"_Comes from the Green Dragon!"_

**ooo**

It was dark when she was woken, being shook awake by a pair of hands. The hall had become quiet, and a few stray snores could be heard, it being well into the night. She could tell that she was still a bit drunk, but it took her a second to realize she was leant against a wooden column on the floor.

Legolas was the one who was shaking her. She pushed his hand away, settling back against the column, not wanting to be disturbed. When he tried again and got the same response, he sat down beside her.

"My Lady, you must retire to your room. Everyone else has gone to bed." He whispered to her.

"Shut it…" She moaned in anger.

He resolved to sitting next to her one the floor.

"I don't understand." He said.

She grunted in response, "Understand what?"

"I don't understand why you are the way you are. Cold, and uncaring. Most women I've had the pleasure of meeting are the extreme opposite of you."

"What?" She muttered.

He whispered back, "You are strong, and brave. You willingly fight for what is just, and you do not show fear."

Bellatrix scoffed sleepily.

"You're wrong." She said.

"How? You embody all of these things complet—"

She growled drunkenly at him, "You would be cold, if you spent years in a prison where your happiness is sucked from you at every moment. You would not care if you lived a majority of your life killing and torturing." She gasped, "You would be _strong_ if you watched your life fall apart at the hands of a Dark Lord."

She sniffed, her closed eyes becoming watery, "You would be the way I am when you pined after someone for years, admiring them devotedly without question, spending every waking day in their step, following their orders, _killing_ for them, becoming their _most loyal servant_." She had begun to cry, "You would fucking be like me if you loved someone so much, you didn't have your own mind for years!"

Legolas didn't dare touch her, even though it broke his Elven heart to see her cry. Elves didn't cry too often, as the sadness it would take to cry, especially as an older elf, would deliver them near death.

She hiccupped, but continued, "You would be like me if you realized that there is so much more to life, so much more than you ever did see when you were blinded."

Legolas, to say the least was a bit shocked, he never would have suspected this out of her. For the weeks he knew her, she had been like stone, occasionally showing her wicked and playful nature.

She fell back into sleep again, but not before grabbing onto him around his shoulders.

"Take me to my room, you dirty house elf."

**OOO**

**A little longer than usual, to make up for the weeks of neglect. Oh and I don't know if anyone noticed, but a few chapters back, Aragorn told ****Éowyn that Arwen had **_**left**_** to the undying lands. Thanks to all those who reviewed, I hope you could tell if I answered your review in this installment at all.**

**The more reviews I get, the faster I write a new chapter. So tell me what you think!**


	10. Chapter 10 You Can Say That Again

**The Veil**

I do not intend to plagiarize either works by Rowling or Tolkien; I am merely using my imagination and applying it to their fantastic worlds. I've just tweaked some things to make the story relevant. 

**Chapters:**10 of many

**A/N: Oh goodness me. Time sure does fly when your preoccupied doesn't it?**

**My deepest apologies to all my readers for my lack of update within the last… I dunno, month(s)? I'm making the transition from high school to college, out of state I may add, and in the process, my family is also moving to a different house. I do not mean to make this an excuse. **

**All of your reviews were absolutely inspiring, and I hope this chapter comes to your liking. **

**(BTW, I happen to be on Spring Break at the moment, so I might be able to squeeze a few more chapters in if the reviews I get inspire me some more…)**

**oOo**

It was dark, as most nights are prone to be, when a most peculiar woman woke from a most restless sleep. The room and bed that she lay in were cold, something the woman would have preferred under different circumstances, but tonight she found the wisps of visible breath leaving her lips unnerving.

Her eyes were wide, fear gripping the back of her throat, leaving her saliva stuck on her tongue. Her earlobes were freezing, and the tip of her nose could have nearly fallen off.

She could feel it, something was calling her. A deep whisper, low and rumbling, shaking her kneecaps and chattering her teeth, it shook her very core.

Evil. An evil so dark and terrifying she could compare it to no other. Not even Voldemort himself.

No, Bellatrix knew this had to be something much, much worse.

She lifted her torso from the chilly bed-coverings, and unwrapped herself from the blankets to place her calloused feet on the icy stone floor. Her hair was everywhere, and it made her feel… lethal.

Like a marionette she was raised from the bed, her footsteps jerking towards the door. Deep in her mind she knew something was wrong, but it was quickly over-shadowed by the rumbling tones.

"_-agh burzum-ishi krimpatul."_

She stepped into the corridor, leaving her wand on the bedside table, along with her better judgment.

It was like walking through thick smoke. Bellatrix vision became tunneled, narrowing indefinitely. She couldn't see an arm's length in front of her, but it didn't matter, she didn't need to see where she was going.

…_Wait what?_

Bellatrix stopped in her tracks. What was going on? She could… hardly think… straight!

Her legs began walking again. She tried to stop walking, but her legs wouldn't obey her! Was she under the influence of the Imperious Curse? What type of dark magic was th—

Bellatrix continued walking, the halls void of anyone but herself and the awkward-timings the patters of her feet made.

She was getting closer, she could feel it.

**ooo**

Legolas could hear the footsteps coming his way far longer than the owner of the footsteps knew he was even there. He had come outside after he brought Lady Bellatrix to her chambers, hoping to ease his mind of his racing thoughts, but found that something else was concerning him.

"The stars are veiled." He told the visitor.

Aragorn held his pipe in his mouth, taking a drag of the pipe-weed inside and blowing it out toward the stars. Legolas was cloaked, a dark figure against an equally dark sky.

Legolas' face became urgent, and he turned to Aragorn with his eyes wide and white, contrasting the darkness surrounding them.

"The eye of the enemy is moving."

He was silent for a few moments, before turning swiftly on his heel and grabbing Aragorn's arm.

"He is here!"

**ooo**

She couldn't see a thing now. The smoke was blinding, to the point where it felt as though her eyes were crusted shut, and no matter how much she rubbed, it wouldn't clear.

The coldness was starting to dissipate, starting with the floor; she could feel a warmth beneath the soles of her feet. Her legs were moving completely on their own now.

Bellatrix had to admit, she was scared shitless.

She could hear voices, but they were weird and dulled, as if behind closed doors. It sounded like whimpering, and a concerned chastising.

"Bellatrix?"

She heard her name! Spoken on a tongue of someone familiar, but who?

The floor suddenly spiked in temperature, burning her feet. She felt so dry, it was hot all around her. The view behind her eyelids turned bright red, like fire. It was so hot, so… hot. She needed water, desperately. Her mouth, just moments ago almost dripping with wetness turned to sandpaper, her tongue like parchment.

"Bellatrix no! Don't touch it!"

She could feel herself bending forward, her arms reaching…

It hurt! It hurts!

An eye! An eye of fire! Lidless and unblinking, drawing her in!

"_I see you Bellatrix Lestrange… Faithful servant of the Dark Lord, your Dark Lord."_

The smoke was gone now, only dry air, and fire, and the _eye_. She began to choke; her breaths came out hard and labored.

"Not _my_ Lord! He is dead! He is—"

"_Foolish girl! You will never be free! And now, I have you…"_

She started to panic, the eye began to advance on her, coming closer in waves of heat and death.

"_I am your new Lord. Forever faithful, you will be my servant!"_

Visions of dementors on the backs of dragons invaded her mind. Flying, high above a city of stone, burning, destroying as they flew. One of them pulled back their hood, and Bellatrix found her own face staring back at her. Her skin looked as if it were melting, and her eyes were set so back in their socket, she thought they might have disappeared. The other her was smirking, showing teeth so rotten and yellowed it outstripped the state she knew her own teeth to be in currently, covered in soot and ash, she was brandishing a black metal staff. Flashes of green were shooting from the staff at the city, but the targets of the other her were too far away to see. The whole city was engulfed in flames, a giant torch. Suddenly, she could see Legolas with Aragorn not far behind him, both naked and tied, being pulled along in a long chain of survivors, now captives. Legolas' ears were mutilated, his pain showing with the tears that poured from his eyes. Aragorn was covered in bruises, two black eyes, and what Bellatrix recognized as a broken arm, his sword arm.

She couldn't bear to see them both like this, two people, whom she deeply cared for…

"NO!" she yelled, her voice cracking.

The vision began to retreat from her mind, growing smaller as she pushed the Eye's influence from her.

"_You cannot hide, girl. I will always see you. You cannot escape!"_

Bellatrix pushed at him, her arms outstretched in her mind, burning in the fires he created. She would not give up. She pushed, giving it all her strength, and finally she felt some give.

"Try me."

The eye screeched, a horrifying yell, bursting her eardrums. She could feel blood in her own ears, running down her neck. And then, a great shield burst from her, banishing the eye so fast from her that she was thrown back into reality.

An oversized crystal ball fell from her hands, landing with a crash against the stone floor, and cracking clean in half. Said hands were burnt, red and raw as if she stuck them in a raging fire.

She moaned, falling to her knees. She could see the feet of those in front of her, and recognized them all instantly.

A few ran to her, and she could feel hands on her back, helping her into a crossed-legged position on the floor. There was a pitcher next to her, and from the prompting of her queasy stomach, she grabbed it and emptied its contents straight into the bowl. She spluttered, and then laid back on the floor.

"That's it." She coughed, "Spill it. What the bloody hell is going on here?"

**ooo**

She was stunned.

What she had concocted in her mind as the history of this place, as she had known no inkling of what it was before, came nothing in comparison to what she was just told.

She knew there was a war, between good and evil, obviously, as she had fought in one mere days ago, but she did not know that it went to _this_ extent. The members of what she had learned was the 'broken Fellowship' were sitting at one of the previous night's party tables in the Meduseld, all reminiscing over what they had just revealed to her.

Another Dark Lord.

Another 'Chosen One.'

Another war between good and evil.

Gandalf was discussing matters, trivial ones she supposed, with Théoden ahead of them all.

It was all too strange for her. To have left from a place where a great battle had literally just ended between opposite forces, only to get thrown into another one, on the other side no less!

"I suppose Gandalf put you all up to this? Keeping information from me, I mean."

Aragorn looked at her, "You must understand. Gandalf never does anything unless it is with good purpose."

_Sure._

The table grew silent, and all turned their attention to the King's and Gandalf's conversation.

"—ride to Minas Tirith." He locked eyes with Pippin, "And I won't be going alone."

She was left at the table with Legolas and Gimli, the others running after Gandalf and Pippin.

"So, Lass." Gimli grunted, "If we've learned one thing, it's that you really can't hold your liquor."

**ooo**

It was a few mornings later that found Bellatrix _Black_ in an odd mood. She was in the courtyard with a bored Aragorn who was packing his pipe. She had her wand out, and was going back and forth between changing a twig into a dagger and back again.

Aragorn was watching her in obvious interest, and she couldn't help but smile at how she could make him marvel at something she considered so simple.

"If I may ask Bellatrix," he shyly asked her and continued when she nodded her head, "When did you learn that you had this, well, these—"

"Magic?" She replied.

"If that is what you call it, then yes."

She sighed, wondering how she would explain this to him without making them both confused.

"Well, I was born into a—a _pureblood_ family. So I've known about magic since I was born."

"Pureblood?" he asked.

"That's what the more prudent call those of which every family member have been a wizard or witch. There is also half-blood and… muggle born." She almost stuttered over her words.

"Ah!" he smiled, "Half-blood is not too unlike what we have here, Half-elven. But what is a moogle?"

"Muggle."

"Yes, what does that term describe?"

"It's what wizards call those who aren't wizards. A muggle born is a wizard child born to muggles."

She thought back to the female in Potter's little trio. Hermione Granger. Excluding the battle at Hogwarts, the last time she was close to the girl was when she was carving 'mudblood' into her arm.

_I'm sorry Hermione…_

"Ah, I see." He noticed a strange sad look in her eyes. He looked at her wand resting in her lap within her bandaged and salved hands, "And what is this? Your staff?"

"I guess you could say that." She said, "It's called a wand."

It had been hard to hold her wand after her hand had been bandaged for a while, there was just something restricting about holding a wand when you were essentially wearing bandages-for-gloves.

"And this _magic_ comes out from the end of it?" He asked, as curious as a child would be.

"You could say that."

"Fascinating."

"You can say that again."

"Fascinating."

"No, Aragorn. It's a saying where I come from. It doesn't literally mean to say something again."

**ooo**

A few hours had passed with the same sort of conversation consuming it all. It wasn't until Aragorn had finally run out of questions about Peeves the Poltergeist that they took a break from conversation and Aragorn had noticed it.

In the distance, a tiny speck could be seen, shining brightly.

_On fire._ Bellatrix thought.

Aragorn suddenly jumped up, startling her, and running quickly to the Meduseld. Bellatrix hopped up and chased after him, catching up just before he burst through the doors.

"The beacons are lit! The beacons of Minas Tirith are lit!"

Everyone in the hall turned to look at them. Théoden had a strange expression on his face.

"Gondor calls for aid!"

There was silence in the hall, as all listened for Théoden's reply.

"…And Rohan will answer! Muster the Rohirrim!"

**oOo**

**So, this one was pretty short. But I feel like I'm hitting a little bit of writers block right now. I'll write another soon, I promise, but I'd really appreciate if you guys could give me your two cents to either inspire me or give me some ideas. In fact, I write these for you all of course. **

**Thanks to my loyal readers, reviewers, and watchers of this story.**

**And thanks to all who favorited!**


	11. Chapter 11 Wandering and Groping

**The Veil**

I do not intend to plagiarize either works by Rowling or Tolkien; I am merely using my imagination and applying it to their fantastic worlds. I've just tweaked some things to make the story relevant. 

**Chapters:**11 of many

**A/N: My god, did I have horrible writers block! I apologize, for I know next to nothing about horses and if this chapter seems a bit odd, you now know why. Enjoy!**

**Oh, and thank you to all those who reviewed, and to those who are watching and favorite this story. You are my inspiration!**

**oOo**

Bellatrix wasn't any good with horses. She wasn't good with any creature really.

The only thing she had ever been good at was being devilishly cruel, and there was really no option for that at the moment.

The horse that she was given was a plain brown one, quite unnoticeable when filtered with the rest of the herd, and of average horsey-height. It gave a snort when she had initially gotten close to it, along with a whinny and a few disapproving stomps on the stable floors. It, as Bellatrix didn't know if it was male or female and had no intentions of checking, looked at her with large brown eyes, almost glaring from its elevated position, its sight traveling down its snout to land on her crazed form.

"Talk to her," Aragorn said from behind her, noticing her standing in front of it in an awkward stance, "She will understand."

He took her hand in his own, a rough but warm (surprisingly pleasant) embrace, and lead it slowly to the nose of the mare. His chest pressed against her back as the distance between them decreased, and the lids of her eyes lowered a fraction of an inch. The horse sniffed his hand, and finding it suitable, move onto hers after Aragorn released her hand to stay suspended and move back from her a ways.

From its nostrils it blew air onto her hand. It was cold, but not overly so, and had an odor of which she couldn't place.

_Like shriveled leaves and straw. Much too much like Thestral breath._

She made a face, "What do I say to a horse?"

But he didn't reply.

He walked off to a horse down from where she was, and watched as he calmed the rowdy creature, something the stable hands had been unsuccessful. He whispered to the horse, rubbing its face and murmuring in indistinguishable tones.

She turned back to her beast, catching its eye and sighing.

_What have I gotten myself into? Ugh, nasty thing really…_

She lifted a wand-less hand, and the horse watched her carefully, for now she was approaching without the guide of a more experienced hand. It hovered over its nose for a moment, before coming down and lightly patting the tip.

"'ello, horsey." She said, almost a squeak as she felt the cold dampness of its nose.

She reached out to lay her hand on its side, finding the fur there soft but coarse at the same time, and smooth, just as smooth as one could infer by looking at its gleaming-ness from afar. The beast turned its head to look at her, and the skin under her bandaged hand rippled, but she wasn't sure if it was a good sign or not. Not knowing where to proceed after that point, she stilled as she left her hand on his nose, for fear of making a move that would make the beast use its giant teeth nip at her very small hands (in comparison).

She saw those teeth, and they were _huge._

**ooo**

Not soon after, a stable hand came and put the necessary equipment on the horse, along with her pack and other similar items. He checked to see if the horse had proper shoes on, and brushed it down once more in extra measure.

She was tempted to thank him as he left her to herself, but caught her tongue at the last second.

"A noble mare you have indeed, my lady."

Only an idiot wouldn't have known the voice to belong to Legolas.

"Mhm." She wouldn't have known what to say.

He took in her uneasy demeanor. "You seem uncomfortable. May I inquire as to why?" He came up beside her, their shoulders nearly touching.

She made an odd guttural sound in the back of her throat.

"…It doesn't matter."

"Nothing that has one so uneased can be of no matter." He said to her, placing his hand gently on her shoulder. She made a flinch, but did not remove his hand. She took a while to reply.

"…Are—Are you sure it will allow me?"

In that moment, she had never before seemed so… pure to him. Her fear, and uncertainty, touched his heart in a way that had him in question of himself. She turned her face toward him, and he caught in her eyes a dark and quivering need. She still had doubts in herself, he could tell. She still could not see just how _good_ she actually was, and it saddened him.

"No need to worry," he said to her in dulcet tones, "You are more than worthy to ride."

There was a spark in her face as she acknowledged his comment.

_-that's a first._

**ooo**

As much as Legolas would have wanted to tell the others, not in a boasting manner of course, of how he had successfully taught Bellatrix to mount and ride in preparation of the journey to Dunharrow, it would have been an absolute lie.

As soon as she had put her foot in the stirrup, the mare had begun to buck and neigh wildly, attracting the attention of everyone, and effectively erasing any hope he had to have Bellatrix ride. It took only a few moments to calm the horse, but in those few, Bellatrix had managed to vacate the stables.

It had quite effectively shocked him, as he must have misjudged the situation. He thought her _so_ ready to ride, and her spirit, it had seemed had also been ready. When he looked into her eyes, he could see the ghost of the dangerous woman she once was before she had come to Middle Earth shying away from the light, allowing for the more docile woman to peer through. She had wanted to ride the mare badly, his elvish senses had allowed him to understand that yearning emanating from her, and now it seemed as if she had retreated away from happiness, and from _him_—no, the _company_, again.

They had only been riding for a portion of their journey when he had told Aragorn of the events, skipping out on a few of the minor and useless details. Aragorn had listened as one who was concerned would have, and then asked Legolas if he knew of her whereabouts.

"I—I had presumably thought she would be with you, Aragorn." Legolas was caught off guard. Neither of them knew where she was?

"No my friend, I have not seen her." Surprisingly, Aragorn did not look alarmed and peered slightly to the side with a quirky smirk. "Do not worry," he said, "She will show up in due time."

Legolas was left to ride alone to wonder just exactly what Isildur's heir was plotting.

**ooo**

The sky, bright blue, was dotted with clouds of the whitest of whites. It was as if a painter had taken up his brush and created a masterpiece so wonderful it would ease the hearts of all whom look upon it. The smell of the clear air was… abysmal at best.

She was beside some sort of… cabbage looking vegetable, its odd stench gracing her nostrils with an odor quite unplaced, hiding behind the crates on a cart holding the provisions for the trip. It was rather bouncy- bouncier than a horse, _that_ was for certain- and now her bottom was in dire protest and yearned to be on a horse instead.

She didn't want to ride a horse though. No matter how much Legolas would reassure her that the mare had meant no harm, and that they should "attempt again."

But she wouldn't have any of it. She saw the look in the freaky beast's eye, it _definitely_ meant to tear her limb from limb with its hooves.

_The thing was lucky I didn't _curse_ it, to be honest. Couldn't have pulled my wand out a moment to sooner and-_

She had walked her sorry arse back towards the Meduseld, all intentions of abandoning everything and leaving this place for good. Only, she had no idea just exactly _how_ to get back. Gandalf had never hinted that she could, and somewhere along the line she remembered him telling her, forcefully, that she was _stuck_ here.

_Sonofabitch._

She was stuck. Fucking stuck here. She stopped in her tracks, staring at the dirt ground beneath her boots. _Stuck in this shithole_. She caught sight of her long curly hair. It looked… healthier, almost? She picked up a curl and placed it to her lips. Yes, defiantly smoother, and _thicker_, if that wasn't impossible. She took the curl, stretched it, and let go. It bounced, _bounced_ right off her fingers and smacked her face.

_Well, that's a first._

She cackled, and honest laugh, and picked it back up again. It smacked her in the face, again, and again, and again. Some of the villagers around her had heard her odd giggling and had stopped to watch her in curiosity. She noticed, dropping the curl in mid-spring, and scowled. An audible growl came from the back of her throat as her thoughts switched back to the dilemma at hand.

_I'm not getting on the back of that horse. Both of those twats are going to have to whip out some wands, or those barbaric swords, and duel me for all their worth before I ever even consider—_

A few soldiers passed her with a horse pulling a cart of food and a few crates that were big enough to hide a good few children. They stopped, coincidentally, right in front of her, conversing to an overseer and checking they had everything.

_Bella, sometimes you are just _too_ clever._

Surprisingly, the elf and those other two hadn't found her yet. She had no intention of getting up to find them either, and was perfectly fine laying here on her back, _thank-you-very-much_.

Except for the cabbage, she could do without that. She grabbed it, in all its grand greenness, and chucked it over the side of the wooden cart. There, now she could smell the air.

Not that she enjoyed it or anything…

**ooo**

She woke up some hours later, the sun further traveled up the sky than it was before. She jumped when she heard voices yelling. They sounded urgent, and for a split second fear stirred within her. Were they being attacked?

She felt a familiar tug on her bellybutton, and the slight upset of the stomach as she disapparated.

And then apparated back to the exact same spot.

_Strange, _she thought, _I'm sure that's not supposed to happen…_

Something was not right… but she pushed it to the back of her mind.

There were tents everywhere, white-sheeted teepee-looking huts that were surrounded by soldiers, their swords, and their horses. Something was off with this picture too. She remembered the size of the army from the last battle, the sheer number of them; they could only anticipate that this next battle would harbor _so_ many more. She was not daft, and knew they were all preparing themselves for death, there would be no way they could win this time.

She grabbed onto the side of the cart as it started to steer away from the main body of her group toward a different section of tents, and ran through the bodies in front of her to the head of the party where she could see Aragorn conversing with the King on horseback.

"—more will come." The king announced in a finalizing tone, and road slightly off, dismissing Aragorn.

She cleared her throat to make her presence known, and to her un-surprise, Aragorn was not startled.

"Every hour hastens Gondor's defeat." He sighed, and turned his head slightly in her direction. "Go and take some rest My Lady, we have 'till dawn." He turned back and she barely heard him say, "At dawn, we ride."

The maze of tents was actually _not that hard_ to maneuver around (it only took her a few hours and a few well-put threats to find her way), and she surprised herself by being able to find the tent where she spotted Gimli and a few other men whose names she felt she _probably_ should know by now, but just didn't care enough to, drinking deeply from large goblets around a fire. Knowing Gimli wasn't one for garnished greetings, she merely plopped down on the spot next to him on the ground, pulled her arm back, and patted him on his giant burly back, _hard; _partially out of frustration, and partially because she just wanted to fuck with him.

He gave a startlingly booming laugh and whapped her back in the same manner. She jerked forward and nearly had her face connect with the burning embers if it weren't for her lightning fast reflexes and she stopped herself mere inches from the coals, her eyelashes nearly catching fire.

"Oh, Lass! Making yourself known as quite the joker!" His laughs jiggled the helmet on his bitty head, and she could already' smell the ale on his breath.

"Ugh, you disgusting-" She caught herself before his drunk mind could register what she had said, "Where's the elf?"

He started giggling for some reason or another, and used his burly hand to point to a tent lit softly from the inside by some candles.

She used his shoulder as an aide and pushed herself up, and headed off to the tent. She heard the men get quiet and then laugh out quite loudly at someone's joke, and she had the eerie feeling they were laughing about her. She had half a mind to turn around and curse the lot of them, but then Gandalf's angry face made a flash in her mind, and she made a beeline for the tent.

The door was a mere flap, and she pushed it aside and entered the warm glow of the interior. It was furnished very modestly, with blankets on the floor as makeshift beds; there were four, and side-by-side they were meticulously placed. In the far left, she saw the elf lay, straight on the blanket as if body bound by a jinx.

She suddenly grew very tired, and lay on the blanket next to his, falling asleep as if she had never taken an hours long nap that day.

Her sleep was dreamless, but she _thought_ she was dreaming when she woke to a warm hand creeping up the bottom of her shirt and up the small of her back.

**oOo**

**Why can't Bellatrix apparate properly? What's with the anxiety with the horse? And perhaps more importantly: whose hand is creeping up the skin beneath her clothes?**

**Find out in the next installment of… **_**The Veil**_**!**

**A bit short, but I'm sure you know what to do that would be able to fix that… **


	12. Chapter 12 A Pissy Little Problem

**The Veil**

I do not intend to plagiarize either works by Rowling or Tolkien; I am merely using my imagination and applying it to their fantastic worlds. I've just tweaked some things to make the story relevant. 

**Chapters:**12 of many

**A/N: For some reason this chapter really reminded me of when Hermione took Polyjuice Potion and became Bellatrix when they broke into Gringotts. Speaking of the break in, what did you all think of the last movie? It's a little shocking to think it has all come to an end already, but not really, as it all remains in our hearts.**

**Thank you to all those who are favoriting and monitoring this story. And a special thank you to those who reviewed for the last chapter (RebeccaSeverusSnape, kyjori, TillyMe, crunchynoodles, Iriomote Yamaneko Nokomis, meshalok, and Death-Eater-Bellatrix)! It really means a lot to me. So do it more often! haha**

**oOo**

Vrunak had been summoned to the tower.

An orc of lower status had come to collect him, telling him that the Great Eye had called for his service. He looked over at him, his dreaded hair falling over his yellow eyes, eyes that glared with intense force. The orc faltered in his explanation for a second, cowering back as Vrunak stood, dropping his grimy bowl to the floor.

He was angry that he had been disturbed; the orc had come to him in the middle of his meal time, a meal that consisted of maggot-infested bread and the meat of another orc, one that he himself had killed mere hours earlier. He grunted as he got up, shoving the orc over into some others nearby.

He trudged his blood and dirt-caked boots up the equally as dirtied steps as the furious throaty yells of the others descended upon each other. His boots left tracks in the sludge. Higher and higher he went, until the steps were no longer dirtied but a glossy black. It was scalding, hotter than perhaps it was in the over-crowded tents below, maybe even more so than the mountain itself. Hot enough to cook a babe in the mere air, and if Vrunak's hide wasn't as tough as it was, he probably would have seen his own skin begin to peel and shrivel due to the heat.

At last he reached the last few steps of the stairs; he must've climbed for nearly half an hour, but he showed no fatigue. Nor would he, for he was Uruk, built to be invincible to all stimulants and only able to feel the intense need to kill. There was nothing to cover the doorway as he approached where he knew he would receive his orders, so he stepped through, and as his did so, could not help but feel his insides clench as he penetrated and invisible wall- a wall he had learned from past experiences being the sheer power radiating from the Dark Lord.

The room was empty, nothing in it but the four stony obsidian walls and the matching floor shrouded in darkness; the cool look of the room was in stark comparison to the temperature. He made a step in, and as his foot made contact with the floor, the water from the mud on the underside of his boot sizzled immediately, the steam rising and evaporating just as fast.

-"My Lord." His voice echoed out into the silence, deep and scratchy, and if he'd never had a drink to sooth his throat his whole life.

There was no response.

"My Lord." He said again.

Nothing.

He was about to open his mouth again to call out to the darkness, when he was stopped. Something knocked his knees out from behind him, and he landed on all fours. Vrunak was strong, perhaps stronger than any of the other Uruk-hai, and had never been bested in battle, so he gave a grunt of surprise as he was knocked down. His hands and knees felt fire as they landed on the floor, and the feeling of the meat beneath the skin being cooked alive overcame him.

Then it came. An indescribable sound—for Vrunak could only describe it as so—that grabbed hold onto his mind and lit it ablaze. It was like a shriek with no sound; a sting with no puncture or poison. His head felt as if it would split into pieces, or combust with the sheer pressure.

Then he was suddenly struck with an image. A woman, with hair dark and untamed, skin so pale it was opaque. Eyes as dark as the stone that he had been doubled over. He knew who she was- a weapon, a pivotal asset to victory. He knew where she was. He knew who she was with, and who protected her. He felt the need to retrieve her, retrieve her for his _master_.

_Find her. Bring her to me._

Abruptly released from the force which held him, he knew the task in which his master had ordered of him. Still on the floor, he raised his eyes to look forward at nothing.

But he did see something.

The face of the woman, a woman whom he would stop at nothing to find.

**ooo**

Someone's grimy hand was under her shirt.

_Who in all of bloody Middle-Earth has the audacity to—to…_

_Hold on Bella! You're dreaming! Ah! That makes complete sense! Yes, I see it know! Your dreaming, no one is _really_ touching you… I mean who _would_? _

Her eyes shot open, but before her mind started to kick into real over-drive, she tried to rationalize with herself.

_Yeah, it's all a dream. Who'd be able to hold down the bile in the back of their throats if they were really touching you? No one! That's right! They would have thrown up all over your back already if this was real. I didn't know you could feel warmth in dreams…_

The hand started to creep lower on her back, and with it came the warm and slightly damp breath of the owner of the hand.

_Bella, you dolt! You definitely do not _feel_ in dreams!_

"_Graaaah!"_

She screeched out into the face of whomever she was facing, as she realized that the hand behind her was real and not a figment of her quirky imagination.

There was enough light in the tent for her to recognize what was Legolas' face with his eyes already open blinking and becoming immediately alert. His daggers where instantly drawn and at the ready. At the same time she watched him, behind her, another voice grunted, and the familiar '_shling'_ of a knife being released from its scabbard sounded.

It only took a few moments for Bellatrix to gather her bearings after screaming to pick her wand up from where she placed it on the floor and turn around to face her would-be-molester (or what she thought of as her would-be-rapist who was about-to-be-dead). She could see the person on the cot next to hers who had been touching her flailing his arms in the air, attempting to get his body up to what she assumed was to fight, but falling over himself in the process.

Somewhere from the back of the tent a light was lit, and from it everything became alight. She raised her wand at the figure scrambling around beneath the blankets that it had managed to get tangled in and used it to whisk the blankets away, revealing the face of…

"Gimli?" She gasped.

He immediately sat up on his rump, rummaging around on the floor, searching for something. He seemed jerky, a contrast to his usual self. Legolas came up next to her, and grabbed her elbow of her now limp left arm, searching her face for something she did not know.

Aragorn, who had lit the candle that had illuminated the room, came up on her other side, placing his knife back in its proper place.

"What happened?" He asked her, eyeing Gimli wearily.

She stuttered upon her own words for a moment, trying to figure out the answer to that question herself. She lowered her wand, realizing that there was no actual threat.

"I think," she started, "Gimli is drunk."

They all turned towards their dwarven comrade.

"Gimli?" Legolas daintily asked.

He turned his head up toward them, stopping his searching within the sheets. He was wobbling, even on his arse, and it looked as if he was having a hard time keeping his head up to look at them.

"Have you seen my goblet?"He croaked, slurring over his words. Bellatrix could just smell the alcohol reeking off of him, even from her standing position. "It seems to have dissap—"

His voice faded, and with it the eyes rolled back. He fell back onto the blanket that he had gotten entrapped within.

"He has a serious drinking problem." She announced.

**ooo**

She left the tent when Aragorn 'pushed' her out so they could deal with the little problem that was Gimli (his inebriated state had caused him to become a bit more _friendly_ with everyone than usual). He called her to come back when they had finished dealing with him, but she declined, figuring she wouldn't be able to sleep after that anyway (but didn't admit that to him), and he went back inside. It was cool outside in the night, the air nippy but not enough that she needed to warm her arms. The mountains next to Dunharrow seemed to be giving off the chill, and she could see and hear in the distance the spooked horses. The wind blew her loose hair into her mouth, and as she turned to spit it out of her mouth away from the breeze, she caught sight of something.

Her wand slipped down along her arm to her hand from under her sleeve. There was a cloaked figure slowly walking up the side of the cliff on horseback. She walked to the edge of the cliffside, and like a child scorned, looked straight down at the incomer. He didn't seem threatening, but the person was black-cloaked, and she knew from past experience that a black cloak meant business, and not necessarily of the good kind.

Deciding she would take care of this intruder on her own, she raised her wand to her forehead and cast a disillusionment charm, turning her body invisible.

The figure was nearing the end of the track, so she rushed over to where the path would meet leveled land once more and stood to the side, so that she might hex them as they walked past her.

The horse was white, and the thing atop it was hooded, she noticed as it got closer. She felt like she had seen someone like this before, perhaps in a dream? Anyhow, she knew it hadn't been a good dream.

They didn't look too threatening, but she'd better be safe than sorry… She raised her wand and aimed it at the rider. A simple Furnunculus Curse should do the trick—

"There is no use in hiding. I can see you perfectly."

_Bloody Hell!_

The voice was deep and angelic. A direct contrast to what she envisioned it to be. It actually reminded her a lot of Legolas' voice, like distant bells. The charm faded in her surprise, and she yelled out at him.

"Filthy wart! How did you see me?"

He stopped his horse, "Where is Aragorn?" he said.

She stepped back, "Aragorn? Who's asking?" she mimicked in a baby voice.

"I know who you are, and of your familiarity with Aragorn. Show me to him." He dismounted, and released the rein of his horse and releasing it to roam the grasses freely after taking a sword off its side.

"Show me to him." She mimicked again, "_Blegh_."

She heard him sigh, and reach up to remove his hood. Her eyes immediately went to pointed ears partially concealed by dark hair.

"Another house-elf!" she gasped.

His long face turned puzzled and he muttered 'house… elf?' before regaining his composure once more.

She could tell he wasn't like her house-elf, he seemed more ancient, wiser even. And, perhaps more importantly, he claimed to know her.

_But honestly, it looks as if everyone knows me before I know them!_

"Are you on our side?" She asked.

"Side?"

"Well, you know… Are you on our side or not?" She yelled.

His grey eyes looked upon her in disbelief and raised an eyebrow.

"_Elen fëa_, what _side_ do you wish me to be a part of?" He had a slight accent, and she was intrigued.

She cocked her hip and raised _her_ eyebrow.

"Is it hard for you to answer a question?"

His eyes grew wide and he looked a little surprised. She raised her wand to her lips and taunted him by licking the length of it then giggling.

"You have yet to endure the long and weary road ahead." He told her. "I fear you will not be able to bear it."

She looked at him, confused.

He looked down at her, "I have seen you, child, in a dream of a reality not so distant from this one. You will attempt to fight for those whom you love, but it will be in vain."

"You liar." She sneered.

"I only divulge the truth."

She almost turned on her heel to leave him stranded, but decided to hear what he had to say.

"Go on."

He sighed, "There will come a time when you will no longer know the ways of the world you thought you did, and you will have to decide between two different paths."

"How do _you_ know this?"

"I have seen it." He tilted his head back and looked down at her once more, then stepped around her, making for the centre of camp swift-footed. She followed him, traversing the maze of tents and the occasional man until she caught up to him almost to the tent where her companions were sleeping.

"Stop!"

He halted, and turned to her.

"You will fail." He said. "You will choose the path of destruction in the end. And those closest to you will die by your own doing."

She glared at him and growled.

"You are not to be trusted." He emotionlessly stated.

She didn't know what to say. His eyes locked with hers, and she knew he was telling the truth without having to use Veritaserum.

"I trust her."

They both turned towards the voice.

"Aragorn!"

Aragorn stood, one arm lifting aside flap acting as a door to their tent, one foot on the grass outside of it. His face was stern, and if any time before then- now at least he looked a leader.

"My Lord Elrond." He walked over to where they stood, releasing the flap and letting it sway in the breeze. "What brings you here?"

"You waste your faith, Aragorn." He spoke as if she wasn't there, or as if she was too daft to hear. "She is worthless to you, and to those whom keep your company."

Bellatrix growled again.

"My Lord, your reason?" Aragorn ignored his comment and asked him of his purpose again.

Elrond released a heavy breath.

"Is there somewhere where we may converse without these prying shadows?"

Bellatrix didn't have to be a genius to know he was talking about her.

Aragorn motioned his arm off to the right, and followed Elrond as they trailed off, but not before catching her eye.

His gaze told her all she needed to know.

He didn't believe one word of it.

**ooo**

Finding herself now suddenly tired as she watched the two males disappear she returned to the tent.

It was once again dark inside, but not completely. Where there was once four sleeping areas arranged side-by-side, now there were three. All three were empty, two neatly folded, and one with the blankets tossed apart as someone had left them. Gimli, see could see, was lying atop his blanket sectioned of in the corner, snoring loudly and slightly choking on his drool.

_Serves him right, the cow-clanking bugger. _

Legolas sat off to the side of the mats, admiring his bow and wiping it clean. She could see him with the aid of the small candle, half his body illuminated, sitting with his legs out straight in front of him crossed at the ankles.

"You look weary." He said to her. "Come, I will watch you as you sleep."

_Creep._

"You're not sleeping?" She asked, and blew out the candle as she made her way to the blankets, giving the tent next to no light at all.

"I hadn't any need of it. The few hours we received before Gimli woke us was enough to satisfy the urge." He replied and looked up at her, "Another 'ability', I think you called it, that those of my kind have." He said, referring to a time when she had asked why his eyes remained opened when he slept and why his ears were pointed.

"Sleeping with your eyes open doesn't seem to be that advantageous. They must be bone dry when you wake." She whispered so that he wouldn't hear as she lay down on the middle space.

"We can also hear better than humans." He said, clearly hearing her comment.

Taken aback by his words, she brought the blanket over her face, but then pulled it down and stuck her tongue out at him, at least in his direction she hoped.

"And see clearly in the dark."

She '_eeped'_ and retracted her tongue.

Far away, the distant neighing of the horses could be heard.

"They are frightened." He told her. "It is the mountain; it is cursed."

"Cursed?"

"Yes. Traitors, men from long ago, cursed to live under the mountain for all of time."

"Who was that man, from before?" She asked him, now knowing he would have heard.

"Lord Elrond?"

"Yeah, him."

"He is Master of Rivendell, an Elven city. One I have visited many times. It is very beautiful." He paused. "Perhaps you will receive the honor of visiting one day."

"One day?"

"Of course, that will only be after you have seen Mirkwood, my home."

Something inside her chest clenched, and everything had stilled for a few moments.

"He was in love with her."

It clenched again.

"Who was?"

"Aragorn loved his daughter, Arwen. Lord Elrond's daughter, Arwen." He said.

"Loved?"

"She has sailed to the undying lands. Elrond did not approve of their love, she merely obeyed her father's wishes."

_Love. Stupid thing really._

"Oh, I see."

He drifted off with his talking, leaving her to sleep in peace.

**ooo**

She woke after what had only seemed like minutes to the sound of voices outside of the tent. Aragorn had returned. There was a shuffling of sheets in the tent as what she assumed was Gimli race out after him.

"Just where do you think you're off to?"

She had obviously slept longer than she thought she did, as Gimli seemed perfectly coherent. She shoved the blankets aside and made her way to the exit of the tent, noticing that Legolas was missing too.

"Not this time." She spotted Gimli standing next to Aragorn, blocking his way as he tried to move past, his horse fully packed and ready for a journey. "This time you must stay, Gimli."

"Oh no you don't!" She ran over to them and stood in front of Aragorn's path also. "Sneaking off in the night. You trying to avoid something?" She said in her squeaky voice, putting both hands on her hips.

"You must stay as well." He looked at her with sad eyes, "Legolas will protect you."

"So shall you." Came Legolas' voice from behind them, leading his tacked up horse.

Bellatrix found herself smiling, Gimli chuckled, and remembering the events that happened earlier, she scooted from him a bit.

"Have you learned nothing of the stubbornness of dwarves?" He told him, placing his hand on his shoulder.

"You might as well accept it." Gimli announced. "Were going with you, Laddie."

Aragorn let out a breath, admitting defeat.

Whispers swirled around them as Aragorn led them to the mountain pass, the Dimholt Road.

"_Where's he going?"_

"_Why do they leave on the eve of battle?"_

"_Lord Aragorn!"_

"_What's happen—"_

The voices faded as she followed the men into perhaps one of the spookiest places of her life.

_Well, maybe not the _spookiest_._

**ooo**

It hadn't been very long when light started to shed its gaze upon the earth as Aragorn led Legolas, Gimli, and a whiney Bellatrix to where he supposed the Dark Door would be. Everything was a dreary shade of grey; the trees were all dead, grey also and leering down upon them, the branches nearly grabbing at their clothes.

She was at the end of the company, pouting slightly and dragging her feet in the rubble that made the road. Every once in a while she would groan it protest to all the walking. She clucked her tongue to past the time, and eventually resorted to creating little sparks of light with her wand to entertain herself.

Aragorn merely ignored her childish antics, and kept them all moving on. Gimli, to say the least, was scared shitless, and he tried to cover up his fear by striking up conversation with Legolas.

"What kind of army would linger in such a place?" He spoke in a breathy tone.

Legolas, almost as if he could sense Gimli's unease, Bellatrix thought, replied, "One that is cursed."

Happy that there was _finally_ something that would divert her attention away from the freaky trees and grey upon grey upon grey, she listened in as Legolas began his story.

"Long ago the Men of the Mountains swore an oath to the last king of Gondor to come to his aid, to fight. But when the time came, when Gondor's need was dire, they fled, vanishing into the darkness of the mountain."

It reminded her of some Death Eaters she once knew.

Suddenly, a pressure beneath her belly made itself known.

She had to pee, and _badly_.

"And so Isildur cursed them… never to rest, until they had fulfilled their pledge."

The pressure built, and it was getting to the point where she desperately needed to take care of it. Usually, in this type of situation, they would have been in some sort of plain or something where she would have been able to sneak away and well, piss or shit in the grass. But there was none of that here, just blackened trees that were too worn away to stand behind and have your _business_ covered. And there was a perverted Dwarf lurking around…

Aragorn had finally led them to stand on a slope where a dark hole in the mountain—

_BLOODY SHITES I NEED TO PISS._

Gimli was gasping something out, and Legolas was reading the inscription around the doorway but she couldn't pay attention to anything else.

"Uh, Aragorn?" She whimpered out.

But he didn't hear her.

A particularly cold gust of wind blew out from the hole, scaring the horses away. She heard him mutter something, and then, before she could try to ask him where in the hell she could relieve herself he disappeared into the hole, vanishing from sight.

"Uh!" She moped, turning to Legolas, but before she could reach out to him, he too vanished.

"Well this is something unheard of! An elf will go underground where a dwarf dare not?"

She could just feel it trickling down her leg now, and the only person left was Gimli. He was fidgeting around on his feet, deciding on whether not he should follow.

"WILL YOU JUST GO IN!"

"Ahh!" He heard her yelling at him, but didn't hear the words, and startled by her raised voice trailed in after them. "I'd never hear the end of it!"

_THANK YOU!_

She gasped out as she realized she was alone and immediately set about her business right where she was standing. 

**oOo**

**Well, there's another chapter for all you patient readers. Hoped you enjoyed it!**

'_**Elen fëa'**_**- "Star spirit" or my way of shortening '**_**fëa en e elen**_**'; roughly translated as "Spirit of the Star", as Bellatrix is named after the star Bellatrix. (Don't ask me why Elrond knows this. Just believe that he has infinite knowledge! Hehe)**

**I don't get payed to do this, unless you count reviews. So, review please!**


	13. Chapter 13 Dirt Lips and Boarding Ships

**The Veil**

I do not intend to plagiarize either works by Rowling or Tolkien; I am merely using my imagination and applying it to their fantastic worlds. I've just tweaked some things to make the story relevant. 

**Chapters:**13 of many

**A/N: It is to my understanding the Bellatrix was 47 when she died, and it is also to my understanding that Wizards have longer life spans than Muggles, so therefore I am assuming that they also physically age slower. Must be all that magic, no?**

**oOo**

Her legs successfully avoided the puddle she made as she, well, peed. She had raised her skirts about her waist, since she had gotten rid of the men when they went into the dark door in the mountain and no one would be seeing her 'goods' anyways.

_Not that it mattered. Not like they would like to see it._

She had never had a relationship with Rodolphus. She preferred to stay as far away from him as possible, and they had only really ever seen each other in the meeting places of the house like the parlors or when receiving guests, before they were sent to Azkaban of course. They hadn't slept in the same room, never mind touch or kiss or have sex. She supposed her mother would have wanted her to have had grandchildren for her, ones that she wouldn't be ashamed to call of her own flesh and mainly _blood _after Andromeda had gone and married that muggle-born, but that wasn't an option for Bellatrix. She had only married the man out of what was expected of her.

But it wasn't as if she had never touched or been touched by a man.

She had been beautiful once, before Azkaban. Her hair had been beautiful curls of noir, her skin pale and fair, her eyes mesmerizing. Even her voice had a certain grace to it, and even though she had not been a singer by any means at least it had not discovered the rasp and squeak that it now had.

Before Rodolphus she also had had a healthy sex life. During her Hogwarts years boys from all different houses had attempted to make her theirs, but she was a sly little minx, and eluded many of their prying hearts, and made away with a select few whom she deemed worthy. She had kept this lifestyle effectively until her mother had put some _sense_ into her and demand she marry, _pure_ of course.

The only man she'd ever had any sort of true adoration for was her lord.

_And look how _that_ turned out._

It hurt her deeply to think of him. She had admired and been loyal to him perhaps far more than any of the others, and now as she reflected she realized how stupid she once was.

All the years of deep devotion had only culminated a deep regret in the pit of her stomach. How could she have been so stupid? Throwing her life away for some horrid man who couldn't even see past his non-existent nose to even notice her; how could she have been so daft?

She had been blinded as well, _of course_.

She needed to stop using that as an excuse.

Finding her bladder emptied and checking for any need to use the back door and finding it not necessary, she quickly penguin walked over her puddle a safe distance away where she used her wand to deal a scouring charm on herself, effectively cleaning without the need for paper. She dropped her skirts to their proper place and returned back to her puddle, using her wand again and turning the urine to water.

"Goodness knows this place needs it." She said to herself, frowning at the sheer gloom of the place.

The wind was still blowing from the door, and it rippled the water she had made. It caught her eye, and she looked at her reflection in it.

She hadn't looked at herself in the mirror in perhaps what was far too long, since before she had been freakishly transported here even.

"Oh, deary!" Her reflection yelped, "Do you need some help with that?" It said gesturing to her hair, "Looks like you've really let yourself go!"

She hadn't heard her reflection speak to her in so long, a thing every wizard went through each time they looked at their mirror self, and she could definitely say that they had respectively had a good relationship, but that was ages ago.

"Shut it." She snapped.

"No need to get nippy." Her reflection pouted at her, "You need all the help you can get."

She knew some of her old looks had faded with time, but she was not expecting what the puddle showed her.

Her hair was frizzed and shapeless. Her skin was entirely too opaque, and in places she could clearly see her own veins poking at the surface. There were wrinkles _everywhere_. Her eyes and every crease in her face were hollowed and darkened. Her eyebrows were wild and in need of a dire tweezing, and there was a shadow on her upper lip.

She cringed at her excess of body hair, knowing that her legs probably belonged to a Wildman and her armpits probably harbored a colony of little gnomes.

She winced at the thought, and as she did, finally caught sight of her teeth.

"Merlin's baggy Y-fronts!" She screeched.

Yellowed all over and spotted nearly black-brown in others, her teeth peered out from under her lips. Nearly all were cracked, some even chipped in half. Her had jolt up and covered them from sight before she saw anymore. The nails on her hand were in just about the same state her teeth were.

Her eyes were wide as she stared at herself, noticing that blood vessels in her eyes were popped, staining the white with splotches of red.

"I told you sweetheart." Her reflection gently said.

Her vision went blurry.

How could this have happened? It looked as if she were… She couldn't think of a description. She couldn't see any of her old beauty, none of it.

She was ugly.

_Grow a backbone! _The harder voice inside her head drilled.

"I—I can't." She whimpered.

There was a wetness on her face, and she didn't have to raise her hands to wipe it away for her to know she was crying.

_Don't act as if you don't know how this happened!_

She shook her head in denial. But she knew. Turning her heart to the dark side had paid its price, and only now, in the face of a whole new world and different circumstances was it coming to life.

But she wanted none of it. Even then, back in the place she no longer thought of as her home she hadn't _really_ wanted to be evil. The only thing she wanted was Tom, her Dark Lord, and the Dark Arts was a means of achieving him as her prize. Something that she had used to make him as impressed in her as she was with him. She had been so attached to her Lord she had not even noticed what her actions were doing to herself. Decaying her body and mind. Then, not even Azkaban was a barrier to her.

But now she could see clearly.

Maybe that was why she was here.

Somehow she knew. Her life wasn't a life back on Earth, and perhaps this was fate's way of giving her a second chance.

Abruptly, she swallowed back her tears.

She would not settle for less than she knew she deserved.

Gripping her wand tightly, she turned to the door to where the others had disappeared.

It was a terrifying and unknown place. But Bellatrix Black was no longer scared, and this time, she would do things the right way around.

She ran through the doorway, ignoring the howling wind, fully intent on catching up with the men whom had become a part of her new life.

**ooo**

Although running had seemed a good idea _initially_, she soon learned that it was one of her less wise decisions.

The hallways of the cavern were so dark and long, she couldn't she where she was going or what it was exactly she was stepping on that gave a great _crunch_ each time her feet met the floor, and she had a feeling she wouldn't want to know.

She could see a bright light ahead of her after a few moments of running, and was glad that they chose to walk. She kept her pace, and effectively met with them mere seconds later. Aragorn was holding a torch, and when he heard her footsteps they all turned to meet her, him lighting up the area where she appeared from, panting heavily.

"Where were you?" he hissed, thinking that she had been at the back of the party the entire time but learning the truth after hearing her fast footsteps.

"Oh, pish-posh!" she gasped, breathing deeply. She raised her arms up in a shrugging position, "I've been here the whole time."

He looked at her with and expression that said otherwise. His sword was drawn, and she could see the sigh of disappointment that rolled off his shoulders. Legolas was standing more erect than usual, but his breaths were quick paced and shallow. He seemed… dimmed somehow, as if the light inside his eyes had grown dark in the wake of the mountain. Gimli was paler than usual; he was gripping his axe tightly with both hands, and his eyes were darting every which way.

"What?" She yelled.

Aragorn grunted, and turned back around, "We don't have time for games Bellatrix."

"Oh, fine!" she admitted. "I had to take a little potty break, that's all."

He turned back his head and looked at her again but led the party forward. She felt like a child under his gaze, and looked away from his face. She was starting to get used to everyone's face being slightly disapproved whenever they looked at her.

Legolas stared openly at her, and she remembered what she learned about him being able to see clearly in the dark. She adverted her eyes from him also, knowing that he would have seen the extra redness in them that had yet to clear. He turned from her too, his hair lifting in the wind of his movements.

They resumed their walking, and she took her usual spot at the rear, behind Gimli.

The hallways were really cramped, and even though she knew she would probably be yelled at again, she walked in the extreme shadow of Gimli's steps, her foot going down as his came up. It was perhaps by far the darkest place she'd ever been, and only now as her companions were silent and her breathing slowed did she hear the voices.

There were whispers being carried on the wind, but she felt no breeze. The air was still but yet she could feel it rippling at the parts of her legs that were bare.

She looked down, and nearly stopped. She jerked her back head up and quickened her step with her eyes wide open. She really hoped that those were not hands grabbing at her shins that she had just seen.

Ahead of her she could see the others with molesting hands of her own, and slammed her eyes shut in what she would never admit was fear.

She collided with Gimli as he stopped in his tracks. She could feel him shaking badly, and slightly pushed him, hearing loud crunches as he stepped on a larger quantity of whatever it was that she had ran over earlier.

He made a sound that she guessed was a manly whimper, and took it as sign to shut her eyes tighter.

"Do not look down." Aragorn whispered.

Too late.

Her arm found their way to Gimli's shoulders just in time to feel him hop on his spot as he tried to escape whatever they were standing on. If he was scared, then she was terrified at what was making him scared. She nearly jumped on his back for a piggyback as he sounded out again.

"Wa-gah!" He yelled, "Legolas!"

She lost her hold on him as he raced forward, opening her eyes to just catch the back of him as he followed a golden sheen around a bend.

"Hey! Dwarf!" She yelled chasing after him, "Don't leave me!"

She didn't dare look at the floor, but she could feel the rounded shapes of the objects as they flew up hitting her legs mid-air.

"Bloody idiot!" She yelled at him, going around the corner. "I could have died!"

There was no answer for her as she came up to them. The cramped walls had turned into a vast underground courtyard, and not far from them was a run-down building. Aragorn raised his torch this way and that, hoping to illuminate the entirety of the space.

Down from somewhere deep below a thundering voice echoed, shaking the rock beneath them all.

"Who enters my domain?" It said.

"No one." She moaned, really not wanting this situation to get any worse.

There was a rumbling laughter, and near Aragorn a green apparition formed. It was a decaying man, with more bones visible than skin and a crown on his brow, and from what she could tell, he was smirking at them.

Aragorn stepped forward, "One who will have your allegiance."

This seemed to make the ghost a little peeved.

_Maybe he'll drop dung bombs on us_, she thought, thinking back to Peeves the Poltergeist.

"The dead do not suffer the living to pass."

_Or maybe not._

"You will suffer me!"

At this the ghost erupted into a reverie of laughter. All around them more ghosts materialized, and with them more buildings appeared as if they had been living in them. It was the largest amount of ghosts she had ever seen. The Bloody Baron had _nothing_ on these guys for sure. They were all in the same state as their leader, and every one of them were holding a weapon ranging from spears so long swords.

"The way is shut. It was made by those who are dead. And the dead keep it!"

They advanced on them until they were surrounded by a vast circle of ghosts. They were all chanting, and still their king was laughing.

Aragorn advanced a few steps toward the king slowly.

_Not a good idea…_

"The way is shut. Now you must die!"

_Definitely not a good idea!_

Legolas notched and fired an arrow that passed through the king and clattered to the ground. The sound made her automatically react, shooting a random spell at the ghost, but of course not doing anything and running him straight through.

Aragorn continued his path towards the King.

"I summon you to fulfill your oath!"

"Uh, Aragorn?" she sneaked, "Maybe we should go…?"

Disregarding her he advanced still.

"None but the King of Gondor can command me!" he became irate, and from somewhere on his person he drew his sword, lunging at Aragorn.

Aragorn was just as swift, and from his side he retaliated by blocking with a sword that Bellatrix did not recognize to be his... Surprisingly, the swords met, and Aragorn swung the ghost's to the side.

"That blade was broken!" The ghost hissed.

"It has been remade!" Aragorn replied, grabbing him by the throat and throwing him back into the crowd.

It was silent for a few moments as all took in the events that just took place.

"Fight for me," Aragorn started, "and regain your honor." He made a circle around the perimeter, and then broke through the crowd, "What say you?" he told them.

Gimli stomped the handle of his axe on the stone. "Ach!" He spat, "You waste your time Aragorn. They had no honor in life and they have none now in death."

Bellatrix thought this would anger them, but they made no sounds.

"I am Isildur's heir. Fight for me and I will hold your oaths fulfilled."

The tension was thick, and he brandished his sword at them. "What say you?" he repeated.

The laughter started up again, but this time it was creepier than ever before. The army of ghosts started to disappear as the laughter became louder, resembling grand booms that teetered nearly to the point of unbearability.

"You have my word!" Aragorn's voice became desperate, "Fight and I will release you from this living death!" He tried to catch some of them, but they dissipated before he could reach them.

"Stand you cowards!" Gimli yelled.

Just as Gimli quieted, a thunderous crack was heard, and they all turned to catch sight of the lone building beginning to collapse. From somewhere above thousands of skulls began to fall toward them, shattering around them and pelting their bodies. The large cavern was beginning to crash.

Bellatrix screamed, but it was drowned by the sheer noise of the tumbling waves of skulls.

Now she knew what she had been stepping on.

"OUT!" Aragorn commanded them, and she followed as he guided them.

The skulls begin to form giant tumbling hills as they get closer, and in an attempt to block the party from them, she yelled, "CONFRINGO!"

The few skulls that it hit exploded in flames, but they were quickly replaced by dozens of others. They were soon enveloped, and had to push their way through, sliding down and falling from the force of the skulls. Somehow, they managed to fight their way through the sea, and made it under a little alcove that shielded them somewhat.

"Run!" Aragorn yelled at her as she paused for a moment thinking she was safe.

Miraculously, as she trailed after them once more, they burst through an exit, entering the outside air as skulls could still be heard and seen rolling.

She fell to her knees fighting for air as her body seemed too adrenaline pumped to suck it in.

The sunlight blanketed her body, and she never felt so thankful for it.

"Well," She looked up at the others, "That was an absolute waste!"

But they were looking off into the distance.

She gazed in that direction as well and then she understood.

Within the valley was a river with a small village along the banks. There was an armada of ships floating on the river, and as they passed the village the houses erupted in flames, the smoke rising up high and black. Even from as high up as they were they could hear the distant screaming.

_Fuck. We're fucked._

Aragorn fell to the grass, and she couldn't see his face but she knew. He was crying.

Legolas came up to his side and placed his hand on his shoulder. Squeezing it. Trying to console him. Gimli gave a huge wail, and knocked into her from the side as he lost his balance. Legolas bowed his head in what she assumed was lament.

_We're really fucked._

From behind them the rock cracked, and they all turned to see what the commotion was.

The King of the dead suddenly appeared, coming through the rock. Aragorn stood swiftly, and they were eye-to-eye.

There was a pause, unto which the King looked upon them, judging their state of character. His eyes fell to her, and under his stare she felt stripped of everything.

"We fight!" He said.

_Fuck yeah!_

And before Bellatrix could blink, he vanished.

There was a renewed hope in Aragorn's features. Legolas seemed to become brighter in the light of the sun, as blocked as it was by the forecast of darkened clouds. Gimli began to laugh, and she joined him with her own high pitched cackles.

"Let us meet these mercenaries." Aragorn announced, and with his words she could feel her heart begin to beat in her throat. He looked so relieved, and happy; she knew the tides had majorly turned, and in their favor.

She liked him like this, not the usual and gloomy—slightly bitchy—Aragorn. This way he was very attractive, she couldn't stop her thoughts.

Bellatrix took off in a run, her hair and skirts whipping the wind behind her. The other three were at her heels, and she felt the speed of her legs increase as the decline of the hill coaxed them. She raised both arms in the air, and she knew she was flying.

She became a zooming column of black smoke, soaring like a long flag on a waving banner.

"Bellatrix!"

One of them called her, but she was too preoccupied with the fact that she was freer than ever before.

She laughed loudly, and the sound carried in the valley, echoing infinitely. She came to the edge of the river, and on the bank she landed, swirling in the smoke like some crude dance. The ships were close, and she could smell the villages burning.

It didn't take long for them to catch up with her, but by then the ships were crossing the river directly ahead. Gimli took long labored breaths, but tried to cover it up as they halted by her sides.

They came close to the bank and Aragorn was first to speak.

"You may go no further!"

The men looked like a cross between goblins, Fenrir Greyback, and Santa Claus. Their hair was in disgusting dreads and she could distinguish their awful smell from the burning villages from where she stood.

Their leader began to laugh at them.

"You will not enter Gondor." Aragorn continued.

"Who are you to deny us passage?" The others began to laugh with him this time, and it irked her.

Aragorn got impatient, "Legolas, fire a warning shot. Don't hit anyone."

As Legolas bent his bow string, she aimed her wand at the ships.

"I'll do it." She muttered, singling out the boson.

But before she could utter a spell the arrow flew, but there was an odd feeling behind it. It landed square in the chest of one of the men.

"Legolas!" Aragorn said, but Legolas was looking at Gimli, who had his hand over his mouth that was shaped in an O.

"Oh!" He mocked, "That's right, we warned ya!" He took a wide step forward, waving his axe menacingly. "Prepare to be boarded, scum!"

More laughing, "You and what army?"

_Oooo, should not have said that!_

Aragorn drew his sword, "This one!"

From behind the dead rushed the ships, and she charged along with them.

**ooo**

"Aragorn! I don't know what I'm doing!"

"Just pull hard Bellatrix, and insert it in the hole!"

"Ahhh!"

She fumbled around with it in her hands.

"Here, let me." Legolas pushed her aside, and took hold.

She watched as he made the knot, his long fingers weaving the rope successfully.

"These sorts of things are much better off doing using magic."

"I'm sure of it my Lady, but it does not do any hurt to use your own strength sometimes."

_Easy for you to say._

It wasn't hard for her to see the muscles rippling beneath his tightly fitting tunic.

The other seemingly unoccupied ships were being manned by the dead, and so that left this one for the four of them.

Gimli took the wheel, holding onto it and steering with one hand and leaning on his axe with the other. He looked a little too cocky for comfort. Aragorn ordered the two of them around, while he 'lead' the armada.

It was a small moment of contentment before they approached what she knew would probably be their deaths.

This time, she would die knowing she did the right thing.

**oOo**

Keep reading and reviewing and following and favoriting! It makes me want to give you more!


	14. Chapter 14 Stubs and Chums

**The Veil**

I do not intend to plagiarize either works by Rowling or Tolkien; I am merely using my imagination and applying it to their fantastic worlds. I've just tweaked some things to make the story relevant. 

**Chapters:**14 of many

A/N: It seems as if time was not on my side these last few months. I deeply apologize for the neglect on this story, but know that I have not given up writing it, I just might be writing the chapters extra slowly. Anyway, this one gets kind of gory.

**oOo**

"Aragorn! We will break upon the docks soon." His dark brows settled themselves over his exotic eyes sternly as he looked afar, "I can already see where they await us."

Bellatrix didn't bother looking, she of course knew by now that Legolas had this thing where he could see abnormally well, far better than her at least, so she knew that she probably wouldn't be able to see anything. She settled back against the railing of the ship, where she had planted herself after her failed attempts at helping tie knots and what-not.

"Good. Do they look as if they suspect our coming?"

"No, but they don't look particularly patient either."

Gimli chuckled a little probably admiring the elf's ability to make a funny, and then came back to stand near her. She looked at him heading her way and smirked.

_Like a lost puppy. It seems we can't be parted for more than a few minutes._

Visually, Gimli was the farthest thing from a puppy. He leant against the rail, holding his axe before him with both hands gripping tightly. Nothing like the dwarves she knew guarded her vault at Gringotts, his face was set sternly, and she could only imagine at what was going on in his mind. She hadn't ever been good at empathizing with others.

But she knew it had to be related to the battle looming before them.

Was he scared? He must be.

If he didn't fight his whole world would be destroyed, everyone he cared about enslaved and killed. All tortured to the brink of death and then tortured some more for the hell of it.

She felt foolish for saying it, but she could empathize with him in that way.

Aragorn was in conversation with Legolas on the other side of the ship, and she wondered what it was he cared for and defended.

He had said that the woman he loved was no longer in this world. Perhaps she had died?

Either way, he had to be fighting for something. When they had first met she had be stricken with how much he had looked like her late cousin, but now she could see that he didn't look like him at all. He was… well, a lot more _manly_. He walked with a confident swagger that Sirius lacked, definitely epitome of a leader. Not like the sidekick that Sirius had been. His skin had been kissed by the sun and he was a lot tanner now than just a few weeks ago.

_A few weeks?_

It had been a few weeks. Time flew by so quickly here, even though she found the days were filled with less events and she had more spare time on her hands than perhaps she ever possessed.

She didn't know how far away she was from every one she knew, be assumed it was too far to ever see them again, and she found more comfort in that then she thought she would.

The wind pushed her free flowing hair around her, and she spotted her companions through it.

She didn't want to go back anyway.

"Quickly! Get down!"

They all ducked, in what they had previously explained what would be their surprise attack. Showing up fashionably late and then taking them all out.

Personally, the plan was more of her style than they would ever know.

She could feel it again, the pumping of heat under her skin that she always felt before she knew she would be thrown into action. It was eerie how she welcomed it as a lover, letting it sweep across her body in its pumping.

Something she would never grow tired of. And that set off a few bells in the nearly non-existent rational part of her brain.

The ship was slowing, its slight bobbing not affecting her as much as the blood flowing in her ears. Somewhere in her chest her heart could feel it, and with each thump she could feel it coursing through every part of her.

Her vision got fuzzy, and all sounds got knocked down a few octaves.

She could barely hear Aragorn as he warned them.

"Yeah, right behind you." Her lips moved, but she sweared they made no sound.

Suddenly she was on the dock in front of the ship, staring at a really ugly collection of orc faces. She had blacked out again, and even though it was only a few moments, she needed to stop doing that.

Who knows where she would end up the next time she did it.

The three males began to charge, and she followed when her feet found their footing.

"There's plenty for the three of us." Gimli grunted, "May the best _dwarf_ win."

She began going faster, and from her side she drew her wand. It was near searingly hot to the touch, as it usually was when she begun to fight, and it had its own thumping heartbeat.

Her signature cackle crashed upon her opponents, but then was soon over powered by the sounds of the dead as they made themselves known.

She rushed into the fray, the orcs all about her breaking rank to try to escape the deadly warriors.

Curses shot every which way, and to the untrained eye, looked like total chaos until it was observed that every curse was so well aimed it took out an orc from just one hit.

She could have been dancing, the way she moved.

Her companions weren't the only ones who had changed, she had changed so much as well. She had something worth fighting for, even if she couldn't pinpoint what it was exactly. Deep down she knew now she had something worth protecting. One could say she was changed, but perhaps not completely.

From her wand a spark started to form, growing exponentially until it became a towering column of Fiendfyre, and using both hands to control it she sent it in the general direction of the enemy. It was fast, and as many orcs tried to outrun the flames, they were immediately engulfed, leaving the echoes of screams behind as their only evidence of ever existing.

She laughed as she saw that all was left behind after the fire dissipated was a wide area of field scarred black, a giant black marker that gave away her position to the enemy.

She heard it before she saw it.

It was unlike anything she had ever heard before. So high-pitched, so deafening that she could not resist covering her ears and flailing around, looking for what was making it.

High in the sky was the creepy thestral from her vision not too long ago. Long-necked and wide-winged, it screeched again, and this time she didn't cover her ears in sheer defiance. On its back was a dementor, waving a sword and flying straight toward her. Her eyes narrowed.

She remembered this thing. In the vision she had been riding it, and all those she had now grown to care for were enslaved and tortured, while she sat happily, an ugly corpse of a woman. Exactly as she had been for Voldemort- blinded by "duty" and the promise of a reward that she would never get.

Her eardrums popped, she could feel the blood running down the sides of her neck. Everything sounded like she had shoved a load of melted candyfloss in her ears.

And it _hurt_.

But she ignored it.

She gripped her wand tightly and was off into the sky in a stream of black smoke.

The thestral saw her coming and made a lunge for her with its great toothy mouth. She swirled around, nearly missing a collision with the beast as she flew out of the way. Its broad sails-for-wings had vast holes, and to escape from being eaten she flew straight through the hole, coming up behind the rider.

"_Confringo_!"

The cloak of the dementor erupted in flames and it began to scream again. This time it was muffled due to her burst eardrums, and she ducked out of the way of the thestral's tail as it came up and around to swat her away.

The rider somehow put out the flames, and turned to her in rage.

"_You will not escape, she-maia_."

It was not in a language she knew the name of, but she understood the words perfectly as if they were part of a language she had known all her life.

She had not the time to respond, for from somewhere the dementor pulled a whip from beneath his cloak, reeled it around, and sliced her straight in the face.

"Ah!" She screamed. "Bloody fuck!"

She could feel it like fire against her skin. The blood leaked out and ran into her left eye, making her squint. On the right side of her face it leaked into her mouth, and she tasted iron.

Distracted, the dementor took the chance and ran the whip at her again. Narrowingly missing her, she flew off to the front of the long-necked thestral.

"Foolish girl." It hissed at her, waving his sword in her direction. "If you fight me you will die."

"Well it's too late to be thinking like that now, isn't it."

Bellatrix raised her wand, but she made a mistake.

Pain. Pure pain.

She raised her wand arm to defend herself but nothing happened.

Her arm, her right arm was gone.

Her wand. Her hand. Her forearm. Gone.

There was only a few inches of forearm left before the elbow and the rest of the arm met with the shoulder that still remained.

Bellatrix screamed, screamed so loud she thought she saw even the Dementor flinch.

"Sauron will win you."

He spoke and as the breath of his words met her the black smoke around her disappeared and in a matter of seconds the dementor and the thestral flew off, and she was falling for the second time since she came to this world.

She grabbed her arm and tried to put pressure on the stub, but it was no use. Blood spurted out of it at an alarming rate and made it too slippery to grab. The wind around her stole her breath away, and before she could feel the last sensation of hitting the ground before she died, she lost consciousness looking at a sea of green.

**ooo**

"Anything yet, laddie?"

Legolas looked around him at all the carnage. Amongst all the orcs and uruk-hai there was no sign of their female counterpart. The earth was smoking, heated by the battle that had ended mere hours ago. The smell of the rotting and burning corpses stung their nostrils with their stench. He had been keeping an eye on her, but had lost track when he got involved to deeply with battle.

"Not just yet Gimli."

It was as if she disappeared completely. He scoured the terrain for her one more time, searching for her black clothing or hair, or her eggshell white skin—

"Legolas!"

He turned and ran to Gimli who was some yards from him.

"Gimli?"

"Look." He pointed toward an ominous point on the field before them.

There, nearly covered completely by dirt and the rather large body of an orc, was the delicate hand of the woman they were searching for.

The fingers held tightly to the wooden stick she called her "wand," and was the only part of her that poked out from under the corpse.

"Hurry Gimli, help me push aside the uruk and get her—"

But there was no her.

Gimli fell back onto his backside, staring in shock at what was before him.

What they should have found was Bellatrix attached to the arm, possibly suffocated under the heavy body. What they did not expect was to not find her body at all.

It was only her arm that they found, cut cleanly off at the forearm. Blood pooled on the ground below it, the light skin so lifeless and see-through it looked to be made of candle wax.

"Bellatrix?" Gimli said, nearing the arm on the ground. "What do we do?" He asked Legolas, looking up at him with total question.

Legolas took in the arm once more. He felt and overwhelming sadness as he kneeled down next to it.

"We will have to keep searching." He said retrieving a spare bit of cloth from his pack.

The arm was limp when he picked it up to wrap it in the cloth, and it dropped the stick on the ground. He wrapped the arm effectively, and Gimli picked up the wand and placed it on his side where a smaller axe would have been placed in its holder. He held his hands there a few moments, and after muttering a small dwarvish prayer, met Legolas' eyes.

"There is still a small chance." Legolas said, wanting to believe his own words so desperately.

"We can only hope."

"If it is the will of the Valar."

They both turned from the site, and went off to look for her.

Gimli was having trouble. He sight was obstructed by something.

His eyes, they were watery.

When he first met Bellatrix, the thought would have never crossed his mind that he would come to care for her, let alone search for her body desperately. He knew she had to be dead, there was no chance that that woman could lose a limb and survive, no matter how remarkably strong and resilient, and magical she was. Legolas and he would find her body, and give her a proper burial, perhaps even in the dwarven fashion, if the elf would allow it. A great tomb of stone, decorated with the legendary architecture and jewels of the dwarves. He had felt her strong spirit could have belonged to any of the rare dwarvish women, and she could have just been born in the wrong body. It was only now did he realize that he saw her as a sister, a young and confused sister, whom he'd try to help guide with words of wisdom. At times he thought her a lost cause, but then he would see that spirit of hers flourish again, and his beliefs would be reinstated.

And now he was looking for a body, hers nonetheless.

Legolas searched even harder for her this time. He didn't want to give up. If she was dead the least she deserved was he body to be found and given a proper burial. At his side the arm was hidden deep into his pack.

He didn't know why he had taken it with him, other than proof of what they had found. He did not feel that any part of her deserved to be littered amongst the corpses of the enemy.

He knew that all odds pointed to her certain state of death if they found her, and with each passing minute he knew that if there was even the slightest chance of her having life within her still, the light of it would grow dimmer as the time passed.

He braced himself to find a woman he had learned to deeply care for dead in the wreckage, and said his own small prayer for her.

He had never gotten to tell her how much he appreciated her company, in all its many forms.

They came upon a large area of completely charred earth, and walked around its perimeter. It was an odd piece of land. There were no burnt corpses to be taken account of within the area, and it was almost as if it were made by—

And there she was.

He spotted her first, and yelling for Gimli, ran to her.

The first thing he saw was the blood. She was completely drenched in it.

Her arm was missing, and what was left of it was miserably angled to her person that it would have been broken had the cut off end been attached. Her hair was everywhere around her, but it was sticking peculiarly to the blood on her face. There, they found a cut stretching from the bottom of the right side to the top of the left, and had cascaded down her face like a waterfall. She was covered in dirt, and there was no telling what else could have been broken or missing on her.

Legolas reached out and placed his hand on the groove above her collar bone, feeling for any trace of a pulse.

"Is she…?" Gimli whispered.

Legolas paused, feeling for any sort of pulse. If it was weak, he would wait. But he didn't feel anything.

"There is no pulse Gimli." He said.

Gimli feel to his knees and placed his large hand on her chest. He began to wail, and his shaking caused his tears to fall from his eyes onto her body.

But he did feel _something_.

"Gimli." Legolas said in confusion.

Gimli looked up, alarmed by Legolas' tone.

"Gimli. Her body is dead, but I feel as if her spirit still remains."

Gimli looked at him in disbelief, "How could this be?"

"Hurry, we must get her to Gandalf!"

**ooo**

She couldn't see anything.

It was far too bright and she couldn't open her eyes.

She stretched out her arms around her, feeling for any sort of structure. But there was nothing.

"_Bellatrix."_

Someone was calling her name.

She'd learned by now that people liked to call her name in different tongues.

"Who's there?" She called out.

"_Open your eyes."_

She tried again but closed them quickly.

"Who are you?"

"_Bellatrix. Open your eyes."_

This time she opened them fully, and even though she could not see for a moment and it pained her, she kept them open.

There, standing before her were two figures. Both were dressed in long flowing robes of the brightest whites and it was almost as if she was looking upon the brilliance of every star in the universe combined. She could not see their faces, for they were too magnificently illuminated. All she could make out were long locks of flaxen hair on one figure, and hair of a darker color on the other.

"_Bellatrix."_

It came from the flaxen-haired one. A voice, too akin to the twinkling sound of bells to be described as anything else floated towards her.

"Who are you?" She asked again.

The twinkling voice laughed at her.

"_Bellatrix. Come here."_

This time, it was the other figures voice. This one was more like the sounds of a cool running river.

She was hesitant to approach but did anyway. Her footsteps were light, and as she got closer the twinkling voice held out an arm to her.

She meant to raise her right arm, but found that she couldn't. She looked to her side, and was instantly reminded. A frown made its way to her face, and she grabbed the stubby arm with her left hand.

The twinkling laughter sounded again, and she looked up at the person distracted from what she was missing.

"_Do not be troubled. Come, reach for me."_

She reached out with her left hand, but the figure laughed again, this time the river laughed with her.

"_Use the other."_

Bellatrix furrowed her brows together, but looked down at her arm.

It was there. Her arm! It was back.

She flexed her wrist in front of her face, and noticed her hand.

It was fleshier-looking. Her hands, they were… younger? They were devoid of scars, and her nails were no longer yellowed and broken.

She looked up at the figures, and now she could make out blinding smiles.

The twinkling one still had its arm out for her to take, and she grabbed it lightly.

It felt—it felt as if she wasn't touching anything, only entered her hand into cooler air.

The river chuckled, _"You still have a long way yet, young one."_

Even so close to them she could not see anything other than the faint color of their long hair and the slight outline of their lips.

"Who are you?" This time it came out delicately, lower than a whisper.

They both laughed once more.

"_More important to ask,"_ the river said, _"who are you?"_

She felt herself being pulled toward the yellow-haired figure. It wrapped its arms around her, and pulled her in for a hug.

"_You have been brave. And fought admirably. You have earned this gift."_

"Gift? What—"

But they became too bright, and the light of every star shone suddenly, causing her to close her eyes again.

**ooo**

It was white, she was seeing white again, but this time it was different from before.

She was in a tent, a rather small one from what she could gather, lying in a cot. Her head was propped up onto a pillow, and she was dressed in an odd gown of some sort, white as well. She could hear bustling sound of people outside of the tent, and made the conclusion that she was inside the city that they had fought to defend earlier.

She thought back to her dream. Who had those people been? Never had she before seen people so brilliant before, but she could remember what they had looked like. Only the sound of their voices and laughter.

She made to sit up, and moaned loudly when her joints cracked, loosening her body and apparently attracting the attention from someone outside.

The flaps to the tent were moved aside, and Gandalf entered the tent.

He came to the bedside, and looked at her with a smile.

"Bellatrix Black." He said, "My, have you changed."

Thinking he was talking about her actions she scowled.

"Well wouldn't you know?" She said, her voice oozing with sarcasm.

"It doesn't suit you now, that attitude of yours. Not when you look like that."

She remembered her severed arm.

Using her left she reached over herself to grab it, and looking down, she saw that it was there. It was there! Her arm hadn't been cut off!

"My arm, it's not gone—"

And that's when she saw the scar. Clean and straight as a razors edge right across her arm a few inches below her elbow.

"The Vala must be in your favor." He said to her, placing his hand on her knee. "When Legolas and Gimli brought you from the battle field, we all thought you dead."

"Dead?" She breathed out.

"Like I said my dear, you must have someone in your favor." He went to a stand on the side of the tent, and brought back a large bowl filled with water.

"The Valar?" She thought back to the figures she had seen in her dream.

She had died?

"Look."

He handed her the bowl and she looked inside at her reflection.

She had not expected to see what she did.

It was her, but her as she had remembered herself twenty-five plus years in the past.

Her hair was in near perfect ringlets of onyx black, her eyes a perfect color to match. She had thick eyelashes, and her nose was no longer broken and crooked and neither were her teeth. Her skin was free of blemishes, and her lips were a soft pink. There was something else though, a thin scar, almost unnoticeable. It was a shade lighter than her already light skin, and ran diagonally across her face.

_From the whip._

It didn't nothing to change her happiness though. If anything it was a gift.

She was the beautiful Bellatrix; the Bellatrix Black before Voldemort.

**oOo**

**Happy Chrismahanukwanzakah! And Happy New Year! Thank you to all those who stuck with this story for these past few months and favorited, reviewed, read, watched, and supported me and this fic! It's not over, and I promise I'll make time to write more. Thank You!**


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